


The Story Of Her

by IsraelHandsDown



Category: Destiny (Video Games)
Genre: Artistic Liberties, Canon Compliant, F/M, Falling In Love, Friendship/Love, Mild Sexual Content, Romantic Friendship, Tragic Romance
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-10-24
Updated: 2021-02-14
Packaged: 2021-03-09 05:09:20
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 6
Words: 28,592
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27178363
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/IsraelHandsDown/pseuds/IsraelHandsDown
Summary: UPDATED. Now Multi-Chaptered.Snapshots of key moments in the lives of The Drifter and Orin, during their time together in the Dark Age. From friendship, to falling in love, and their tragic parting of ways. Told in no particular order.
Relationships: The Drifter/Orin
Comments: 15
Kudos: 24





	1. The Girl With Tiger Eyes

**Author's Note:**

> Takes place during the Dark Age when The Drifter served in the Pilgrim Guard as "Eli" and Orin was his partner.

**THE DARK AGE**

Above them the milky way dusted the sky and the purple glow of the galaxy’s edge was clearer than it had ever been. A warm summer night devoid of obstructions, and Eli caught sight of the tiny blink of a satellite that had somehow survived. He wondered—was it still sending signals?

Lying in the cool grass with the smell of the earth around him, he closed his eyes for a moment and sank into the peace.

“What if I really am an alien?” Orin’s voice was small, and Eli reopened his eyes, turning to look at her.

She lay with her eyes fixed on the night sky.

“Do you....do you think there’s others out there like me? A whole world maybe?”

He watched her, watched her neon eyes and shifting blue skin, thinking to himself that she must be right. That she was an alien, because Earth couldn’t possibly produce something as ethereal as her.

“Maybe.” He muttered.

“Well, I mean...” she thought for a moment, “There would have to be, right? I had to come from _somewhere—_ I had to have been born.”

There was clear frustration in her tone. She had dwelled on this mystery for so long, that it had eaten away at her. He knew how it felt to be deprived the knowledge of where you came from, but Orin’s situation was more burdensome.

Eli thought for a second, turning away to look back at the stars, imagining a planet at the edge of the universe where everyone had blue skin and tiger eyes. Just like Orin. It made him frown, he didn’t like the thought one bit, because in his heart he knew there was _no one_ in the universe like Orin.

“Nah, I don’t think so.” He admitted, “In fact, I think I know _exactly_ where ya come from.”

She turned to fix him with a surprised expression, “What? You do?”

“Yeah.” A small smile began to form on his lips, a thought rushing through his head. A truth that he knew—that he had to tell her, and he took a deep breath.

“Ya see,” He pointed at the sky, “A very long time ago—in the center of all things—there were four Gods.”

He traced his finger along the milky way.

“They lived in a world of darkness, and when I say it was dark...I mean, it was _dark_. There was no sun, no moon, no fires, no lightbulbs, it was just dark and cold all the damn time. Now, these four Gods were pissed-off, because they hated how they had to live. They couldn’t do anythin’ ‘cause there was no light and no heat. I mean, seriously! You know how hard it is to eat a frozen t.v. dinner?!”

She chuckled beside him.

“So, they came up with a plan. They decided, they would use their powers to create somethin’ to fix all their problems. They’d combine their skills and create...a perfect being, a being that could give light.”

He swallowed, his eyes spotting Venus and a constellation whose name he couldn’t remember.

“The first God said— _This being needs to be strong...strong enough to burn constantly and never flicker or fade._ The second God spoke and said— _The being must also be intelligent...smart enough to control their power and use it wisely._ Then the third God chimed in— _They must be kind! Gentle and fair, because havin’ all that power and strength could cause pain._ And finally, the fourth God spoke up— _They must be beautiful too, they must glow and burn with so much beauty, it’ll tame every heart in the universe._ And then, they went wandering in the dark, and stretched their long arms waaaaaaaay up into the sky and grabbed a star.”

He closed his own hand to emphasize.

“They breathed into it and the star burned brighter and brighter until the whole thing just burst into pure light. But this light was soooooo bright, it lit-up the entire universe. It wasn’t cold anymore, it wasn’t dark anymore. They succeeded! They were so damn happy and proud of ‘emselves! They looked at the light’s beauty and declared it— _ORIN_.”

He ended his story, lowering his arm and tucking it back behind his head. Yeah, in his heart, he knew that’s how it happened.  
  
A gentle laugh from beside him, and he turned to look at Orin, who stared at him with an expression he couldn’t quite read. A smile on her lips that reached her eyes and a glow of wonder flowed about her, it made his heart skip a beat and he smiled at her.

She had been listening with rapt attention, and beside her head he caught sight of their Ghosts sitting side by side in the grass. Their blue eyes fixed solely upon him, and though the little lights couldn’t express openly how they felt the way humans could, there was a curious and mystified air about them. Clearly, they had enjoyed his story too.

He waited for her verdict. Her smile shifted and her expression turned thoughtful.

“Hmm...is that all true?”

He smirked, bringing his hand to salute at his chest, “Hand to my heart, darlin,’ it’s all true!”

She laughed, her body arching slightly off the grass, “How do you know?” She challenged him, and his smirk grew.

“Didn’t your little buddy tell ya?” He nodded his head in Gol’s direction, “Orin is an ancient word for _Light_.”

She blinked, clearly boggled at this revelation, and he saw her skin slightly flush. The stardust moving across it a little quicker. He chuckled, she was getting bashful. She wore it well.

A moment of silence fell between them as she searched his face.

“That’s quite a story.” She hummed, “But you left out the most important part.” A glint of mischief was in her eyes now, and she turned to look back at the stars, taking a deep breath.

“The Gods knew that Orin would be lonely. Out there in the universe, bringing light to everyone— what a solitary existence. Duty bound and all alone...”

He searched her profile, watching as she chewed her lip; a nervous habit she favored.

“So they reached into Orin and plucked a flame right out of her chest,” Her lips parted and she smiled wholly, “They fed it earth, and breathed on it until it grew and grew. Then, when it was strong enough, they gave it form. A being made of fire—a friend for Orin—so she’d never have to be alone again.”

Something began to ache inside of Eli. His light growing, becoming more consuming with her words, and when Orin spoke one last time, it was in the softest whisper.

“They breathed life into the fire, and declared it— _ELI.”_

He didn’t move. Couldn’t move. She watched the stars, while he watched her.


	2. Before You Go, Would You-

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Eli owned a bar in a valley below Lord Reince's territory, and one day before the Pilgrim Guard departed, he asked Orin something...

**THE DARK AGE - ELI'S BAR IN THE VALLEY.**

Eli took a swig of his beer and looked out at the crowd. Half were drunk, shouting, and laughing over the thumping music. Stumbling into each other and sweating from the summer heat that seeped in from the open windows.

Christ, he wished a breeze would pick up! It was too hot and too crowded. Ice cold beer was helping though. Stripped down to a tank top and tying his long hair back in a knot alleviated some discomfort, but man, oh man! He was about to stick ice-cubes down his pants.

“Travelling in this heat is going to be a miserable nightmare.” Orin shouted over the music.

He turned to her with a smirk, and watched as she adjusted the straps on her own tank top, quickly fanning herself; a look of discomfort on her face.

“Want some ice? Ya can drop ‘em in your top.” He suggested.

She paused and narrowed her eyes at him, a sly grin forming, “And get my top wet? My... _white_ top wet?”

He froze, realization dawning on him. He hadn’t meant it that way, but shit! Now he worried he had offended her!

“I didn’t mean it like that, darlin’.” He quickly shook his head, “That seriously came out wrong, trust—”

But she chuckled and waved him off, “I know you didn’t. I was just teasing.”

He relaxed, amusement spreading across his face as he leaned back against the counter and took another swig of beer. Orin had a sense of humor, and he appreciated it tremendously. She was different. Most people couldn’t take a joke or assumed the literal in everything. It was part of the reason he disliked nearly everyone he crossed paths with. But she....she was unique. He glanced at her again, watching her take a sip of water from a glass he had poured her. She really was the most sublime thing he had ever seen. Every lean inch of muscle sculpted perfectly beneath shifting blue skin. Even her mohawk was stunning, still perfectly feminine. She looked like a warrior goddess. He couldn’t stop staring. Especially at the snakes that coiled around her arm; cunning serpents that suited her.

“Well,” Her voice cut through his thoughts, “I guess we’ll be heading out soon.”

At her words, he felt his heart drop and the smirk vanish from his lips. That’s right, she was leaving in the morning, and most likely, this moment would be the last time he’d ever interact with her. It was disheartening. For the first time, he felt he had truly found a kindred spirit. But the universe was denying him once more.

She glanced around the room at her comrades before looking back to Eli with a small smile.

“Early start, eh?” He asked, trying to mask the disappointment in his voice.

“Yeah. We’re heading west first thing in the morning.” She licked her lips, and her eyes darted away from his own to look down at her glass; running her finger along its surface. That once relaxed feeling between them suddenly shifted into an uncomfortable silence.

Eli looked away, down to the floor as he sorted through his thoughts—through his feelings. He wasn’t ready to say goodbye. He didn’t understand why he felt so...hurt by all this, he barely knew her! It had been three days. He’d known Orin for only three days, and yet, it felt as though she’d been there forever. There was something in the air when she was near, something comfortable and inviting.

The music continued, the people still laughing, whirling about the room in good spirits, and Eli’s eyes watched them. A thought playing in his head...there was something he needed to do...something he couldn’t resist.

_If it’s the last thing I ever do...then let it be done._

So, he turned, leaning towards Orin and shouting over the music:

“Before you go, would you like to dance with me?”

She scrunched her nose and leaned closer to him, “What?”

He yelled louder, a grin on his face, “Before you go, would you like to dance with me?”

She blinked, turning to look out at the crowd. He watched her think for a second, and he knew she’d say _No_ , he wasn’t an idiot. Orin would reject him, and he would crack a joke and it would be like nothing happened. But hell, it would be a fun memory.

_Why would a woman like her want to dance with a man like me?_

Sure enough—

“Nah.” She shook her head, and turned to look at him with a polite smile, “Not right now.”

He expected it, but it still hurt. Nonetheless, he would never let her know that. He’d never let _anyone_ know what was going on inside him. That’s what gets ya killed. Nonetheless, he had to make light of it, turn it on its head and shake it off. So, he furrowed his brow and leaned in closer; acting like he was straining to hear over the noise:

“Wait, what’ya think I said?”

She tilted a bit closer, raising her voice, “Would you like to dance with me?”

“I’d love to!” He smiled and slid forward with his hands out in invitation.

Make or break, it didn’t matter, he would enjoy his final moment with her and cherish it for the rest of his life.

He waited, she stared. Silence between them. He grinned, she blinked, and then—

Orin snorted and burst into laughter, doubling over, and Eli’s smile grew. He chuckled as he watched her, her whole countenance lighting up, and the stardust that moved across her skin seemed to jump with life at her mirth. Making her laugh made him feel so good! What a beautiful sight...what a beautiful sound. Her laughs descended into chuckles, and she put her hand to her chest, coughing and clearing her throat before fixing him with the most amused expression. She pulled herself together, eyes locked upon his own; clearly studying him. He didn’t falter in his good humor, in fact, he offered her a wink. Something flippant to allow the moment to pass quicker.

But then—

Orin stood upright, placing her drink upon the counter, and as Eli began to lower his hand, she reached out and took it in her own. He froze. His smile instantly falling and wide-eyes locked upon her face. He hadn’t calculated this! 

_What the hell?! What is she doing?!_

He must have looked a sight to her, as her own smile fell, staring back at him in complete confusion. Clearly, his reaction had her worried, and he felt bad for not having better control over it. He had to explain. But would she understand?

“This..” He swallowed, “This has never worked before.”

Her head tilted curiously.

“That pick-up line....” He tried to explain, tried to convey how awkward this was for him, “It never works. It never has...” He trailed off, unsure of what to say or do at this point.

She hadn’t rejected him. Now what? Was it possible for him to just...fall through the floor or something? He had always been a man of calculation. Level-headed in his planning and execution. That was one thing no one could ever tell him otherwise...but this...Orin was a wrench thrown into the cogs of his machinations.

Orin’s eyes met his own, and he could see something warm flood them. Her expression softening as she slowly stepped backwards. One step...two steps...pulling him along with her, and he gave no resistance. He was in a trance, following her away from the bar and out to the floor where she stopped. Their eyes locked. His heart was hammering, he tried to control his breath and he kept swallowing out of nervous habit. Her glowing eyes were fixed only on him, and her bow-shaped lips wore the sweetest smile. It was almost too much for him.

 _Am I dead? Am I in heaven?_  
  
When he had died the first time—when the life of the man he once was had been laid in the ground, he was brought back into an absolute hell. A world filled with death and decay, of raiders and warlords, and Eli had hated the cruel hand of fate for it. He had longed for death, for an escape— a release...but he had been denied over and over again. No peace, no joy, no salvation. Until now...

Orin never breaks eye contact as she brings one of his trembling hands to rest on her hip, linking the fingers of their other hands together as she brings her arm to slide behind his neck.They’re close...so close! She is a tall woman, less than an inch below his height, and their foreheads nearly brush. They stand closer than they ever had, close enough to share breath—and he breathes her in.  
  
She smells like apples.

Eli swallows the lump forming in his throat, watching her skin shimmer as shadows pass them by. The music blares, the people shout, but he doesn’t hear any of it. He can’t hear anything above his own pulse pounding in his ears. He can feel calluses on her hand, formed from that war hammer she was proud to weld, but it hadn’t marred the suppleness of her skin. That softness that all women possess—that makes them all so beautiful. Especially warriors like Orin, and it’s that strength that draws him in. To be so mighty, and so delicate at the same time.  
  
What a marvel to behold!

Standing in the middle of that crowded and dimly lit room...there’s nothing else in that moment. Just her. Just them. She continues to watch him, her eyes glowing as a second passes and then another, and he realizes that she’s waiting for him to take the lead, to woo her the way a man is supposed to. It’s this realization that causes him to take a shuddering breath, and muster the courage to steer her gently around, slow and deliberate. They move together, almost beyond their own control.

It’s so damn hot in that room, and standing so close together raises the temperature even more. Sweat on both their brows, on their necks and arms, but neither cares. The sweat mixes with her apple scent and it’s so intoxicating he nearly closes his eyes to bask in it. But her stare is hypnotic...alien. He can never look away from her, and alas, he knows the truth—

This is the last moment they’ll ever have. Come dawn, she’ll be gone, and yet...there’s something that Eli can’t explain. When he looks at her, when he looks into Orin’s eyes, he sees hopes and dreams, he sees a future of limitless potential. He doesn’t understand. He doesn’t know why. He wonders at it. Then he wonders what she sees in his eyes.

Another minute passes, neither speaks, it would be sacrilege to do so, and when the music finally changes, they hardly notice at all. There’s something here...there’s something in the room with them, not the people, not the Ghosts that flutter about the ceiling in their own jovial celebration. This is something invisible, something intangible. It’s overwhelming, nearly suffocating, and Eli blinks in confusion when he realizes that somewhere along the way, they had stopped moving. His heart beats faster when reality sets in.

Orin’s chest is pressed against his own, her arm around his neck bringing his face closer to hers, Their forms fit together so well, and he sees the tremor of disbelief in her own eyes.

_What just happened?_

Her face wears the same question.

He nearly blushes when he realizes his hand had drifted from her hip to the small of her back. The bones of their hips nearly joined, and he worried for a moment that she would knock his teeth in, assume he was getting fresh with her. So, he braced for a massive blow or at least a shouting insult in his face. Titans didn’t pull punches, and if she did in fact snap his neck, he’d have to play dead. She didn’t know he was Risen...no one knew. He didn’t ever want anyone to know.

However—

She doesn’t move, doesn’t say a word. Her lips quivering ever-so slightly, and Eli feels a flutter in his belly and his chest. Should he pull away first? It would be the respectful thing to do...the gentlemanly thing to do, right? But as he begins to release his hold on her, he feels her tighten her own. A gasp nearly escaping him, he meets her eyes, and sees a confusion equal to his own. She’s studying him...searching him...and he’s scared to think what she might see. He’s no prize, no great specimen of male virility...not like the men behind her. The ones she fights alongside.  
  
He’s just a bartender who can do card tricks and light things on fire.

Still...why is she looking at him like that?

A breath, a heartbeat, and eventually she blinks the look away. Slipping back into the here and now. She shakes herself, and offers him a smile.  
  
“Thank you for the dance.”  
  
He returns the smile, releasing her for real this time before taking a step back.

“Thanks for givin’ me the honor, sistah.”  
  
She chuckled as he gave her a bow, and she gave him a mock curtsy in return. He was going to miss this, her playfulness, her wit...he was going to miss her.  
  
“ORIN!”  
  
Another woman’s voice calls out, and from over her shoulder, Eli could see a small group of the Guard make their way towards the exit, signaling that it was time to go. His stomach drops, and he watches as Orin waves back, acknowledging that she was coming to join them.

_It’s over now._

He could feel his heart breaking, and he was ashamed that he could be so effected by a woman he barely knew. But, when she turned back and fixed him with those tiger eyes of hers, he melted once more. A soft smile on her lips, as she met his eyes one last time, “I’m so glad I got to meet you, Eli.”  
  
A tremor passed through his body, and his heart swelled. There wasn’t a single ounce of insincerity in her words, and the fact that she truly meant it, was enough for Eli. If he were to be struck down right here and now, he would die a happy man. Simply knowing she had enjoyed his company was all he ever needed.

He returned her smile, “I’m so glad I got to meet you too, Orin.”

A second passed...and then—

She was gone.


	3. When You Take A Life In Hand...

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> After a century in the Pilgrim Guard together, Eli and Orin realize something...

**THE DARK AGE - IN THE PILGRIM GUARD**

The snowfall hadn’t been heavy at all. Just a light dusting which made their trek up the mountain trail much easier. Above them the stars shone down, the only light coming from the glow of their Ghosts as they hovered beside them. The little lights serving as lanterns. The night air was cold, their breath coming out in puffs and from the corner of his eye, Eli could see Orin shiver.

“Why didn’t ya put more layers on?” He chuckled.

She pulled the collar of her coat up and tucked her chin into her scarf to conserve heat.

“I’m fine.”

“No ya ain’t, darlin’. A thermal shirt and storm coat aren’t enough.” He turned to look at her with a peevish gleam in his eye.

She glared at him, not harshly, but more in annoyance for looking foolish. She let out a sigh.

“Okay, I wasn’t thinking! There!”

He chuckled again, “You poor little thing!”

“Oh, shut-up!” She frowned and kicked some snow off her boot at him, but that simply got a another chuckle in response, as he shifted to avoid her weak attack. Orin sighed and he saw another shiver shake her form,

“How far is this place?”

“Not too far.”

“Well, where are we going?”

“I told ya, it’s a surprise.” He winked.

She hummed suspiciously, an eyebrow raised, “Should I worry?” There was a playfulness in her tone.

Eli spun on his heel to face her, “Now when have I ever failed to deliver a good adventure?”

She chuckled and shook her head, “Never.”

“Never, right?”

“Never.”

“What?” he leaned towards her, brows furrowed, “I didn’t catch that—I what?”

Orin smirked back at him, “You never fail to deliver a good adventure.”

“Huh? What? Never?” He cupped his ear.

“NEVER! Goddammit, Eli, you’re a maverick of great enterprise! A true caramel-bohemian in a vanilla world!” She shouted it as though it were the gospel spoken from a pulpit, and Eli chuckled at her theatrics.

“Ohhhhh! You meant _never,_ right?”

“Right.” She nodded.

“Right. Trust.” He nodded in return and they continued on their way.

He glanced over to see a glowing smile on her face, and he felt a swell of pride knowing he had put it there. That’s all he wanted. To make her smile, make her laugh. Make her happy. She shivered one more, releasing a steaming breath, and he rolled his eyes.

“Hold up.” He commanded, and he stopped. Orin turned to face him, a look of confusion chasing the smile away as she watched Eli remove his trench coat.

“What’s up?” she questioned, but instead of answering, he held it out and said,

“Hold this for a sec.”

She took it as requested, and continued to watch as Eli pulled the baggy sweater he wore up and over his head. He shivered briefly at the loss of a layer against the cold, but his thermal shirt was well insulated, and that fire inside of him would keep him warmer much longer than her. He didn’t need it.

“Trade.” He smirked, taking the trench coat from her and handing over the sweater instead. Her eyes widened when she realized he was sacrificing some warmth for her.

She began to shake her head, “No, no! I’m fine, really!”

“Your whole body is shakin’, just take it!”

She looked down at the sweater in her hands. It was old, worn in some places and the olive color had faded into a muted tone. He had it for so long, it was certainly lived in, but still holding up. After a brief pause, she acquiesced. Unraveling her scarf and removing her coat, handing them to Eli.

“Hold this for a sec.” She mimicked him, and he held her things as she pulled the sweater over her head. It fit her loosely, and she rolled the cuffs of the sleeves up before adjusting the slouching collar. She was a tall woman, but she didn’t possess the broader shoulders and muscular chest he did, which caused the sweater to hang on her. She smirked, doing a little spin to show him how it looked on her, and he chuckled. When she came back around, she met his eyes with a small smile,

“Thanks.”

“Anytime, sistah.”

She took the rest of her clothing back from him and slipped the coat on.

“It smells like you.” She smiled wider, and he gave her a puzzled expression.

“Sorry?”

“It smells like you.” She repeated, “Like that soap you always use. Real earthy.” He watched her bring the collar up and inhale, “I can smell magic too.”

He snorted, “Magic? Ya say ya can smell magic?”

“Yeah! You haven’t noticed it? You Warlocks—there’s a wispy smell of magic about you guys.”

He thought about it, trying to remember if he had ever noticed. Maybe...once?

“A wispy smell, ya say?”

She wrapped her scarf around her neck, “Yeah, it’s very light, but it smells almost like....” She chewed her lip, eyes looking up as she thought of an analogy, “Like when there’s a thunderstorm. That clean electric smell.”

He scrunched his nose, “Ozone?”

“No...it’s more spicy.”

He shook his head, “Don’t know what to tell ya. Sorry ‘bout the smell.”

They started walking again, him leading the way.  
  
“I like it. It smells good.” Despite her mumbling, he still caught what she said, and his face flushed. His hands fidgeting in his pockets. Only Orin had the ability to make him feel bashful.

In his peripherals, he could see Gol glaring at him. Its little shudders twitching about its eye, and Eli smirked at the overprotective Ghost. Amused by his obvious dislike for him. He could care less what the little bolt-bucket thought, and he silently chuckled as the Ghost quickly looked away.

Occasionally, he would catch their two Ghosts glancing at each other, and he knew without a shadow of a doubt that they were communicating. A telepathic link that Risen couldn’t tap into. Something shared only between the Ghosts, and he’d be lying if he said it didn’t irk him not knowing what they were saying to each other. His Ghost better not be sharing information, that’s all he had to say.

They were coming to a fork in the trail and Eli nodded his head to the right, “This way.”

The climb became just a little steeper, but their boots found traction easily. They kept pace with one another effortlessly.

“We’re going up?” There was curiosity in her voice, “Okay, _where_ are we going, really?”

He fixed her with a mysterious look, his voice low and dramatic, “To heaven, my dear. This is the stairway to heaven.”

A chitter came from Gol, “Putting our lives in danger by hiking up a mountainside in the dark...yes, I’d say this _is_ taking us on the road to heaven. Perhaps hell too.” His voice was chiding and his neurotic personality was coming through.

“Gol, stop.” Orin sighed.

“Ya can always turn around and go back, lil’ buddy. No one asked ya to come.” Eli grinned, but it didn’t reach his eyes.

Gol glared back at him, “And let you take my Chosen to who-knows-where in the dark? No thank you!”

Chim-Ung merely sighed, not saying a word about the situation.

They climbed a little further, until the trail gave way to clusters of rocks, and they carefully crawled over them until the mouth of a shallow cave became visible. It was more of an overhang, but it provided enough shelter for harsh weather.

“In here.” Eli motioned, and Orin followed, reaching out to grab his coat sleeve, steadying herself as they stepped over one last cluster of earth.

He plopped onto the smooth stone inside the overhang and she joined him, pulling her knees up to her chest. She looked out at the darkened landscape and gasped, “Oh! I didn’t realize how high up we are!”

Sure enough, the valley was below them and in the distance, they could see the bonfires of the Pilgrim Guard’s camp. Vehicles and tents pitched in such a way that it created a circular fortress.

No one knew they had snuck out yet again. It was half the fun. Neither of them had been scheduled for night watch, so they were free to do as they pleased.

Orin sighed, “Okay, what are we doing?” She pursed her lips and looked around, trying to figure out what was so special about the place.

“Just give it a moment, darlin’. Be patient.”

He reached into his pocket and pulled out a meal bar, unwrapping it and taking a large bite.

“Hunger pains again?”

He nodded, “They never go away.”

She pouted and hugged her knees tighter, “I’m so sorry you have to deal with that. That just blows.”

“Yeah well,” he shrugged, “It’s this son-bitch’s fault.” He gestured towards his Ghost who just glared back.

Orin scoffed and gave Chim-Ung a sympathetic pout, “Don’t listen to him. He doesn’t mean it.”

Eli merely snorted around another bite, “Yeah I do. Lil’fucker!”

He nearly toppled over when Orin punched him in the arm.

_Goddamn she’s strong!_

"Hey!” His mouth was full as he shouted, causing him to cough from nearly choking. Once he recentered himself, he held out the bar in a peace offering, “Truce! Truce!”

She eyed it for a second before reaching out and breaking off a piece, popping it in her mouth.

"Mmm” she moaned, “Chocolate. Thanks.”

He chuckled. Silence falling between them as they both chewed their makeshift meal in peace.

“So,” she swallowed, “We came all this way...”

“Yep.” He nodded.

“In the snow.”

“Yep.”

“In the middle of the night.”

“Yep.” He took another bite.

“For....what?”

He kept on chewing, ignoring her question and the intense stare she fixed him with. She waited patiently for an answer, but Eli kept her in suspense. What was that old saying....patience is a virtue or something?

Finally, he crumbled up the wrapper and put it back into his pocket. Then, wiping his hands, he swallowed his bite and pointed straight out at the night.

“ _That._ ” Was all he said, and when Orin turned her head to see where he was pointing, her jaw fell and a gasp escaped her.

The sky was alive!

Colors of green, red, purple, and orange broke through the night above them. Undulating in serpentine motions across the sky, it was a cosmic dance of tremendous beauty and Orin was spellbound.

Her glowing eyes reflected the colors, and she refused to blink. Not wanting to miss a second of it!

“What is it?” Her voice was filled with awe.

“Aurora Borealis.”

He glanced at her, smirking at her expression of childish wonder. Her great curiosity was being fed.

“What causes it?” Her question was almost a whisper, clearly overcome with astonishment.

Eli bit his lip, pondering for a moment. He could tell her the truth, that it was caused by solar wind, charged particles, ionization....but Orin deserved something better. Yeah, she required something special. So, he turned back to the lights, taking a deep breath,

“Well, ya see,” he cleared his throat and held out a hand, gesturing towards the sky,

“There were these two Dragons. They were brothers, and always competed with one another for everythin’. And I mean EVERYTHIN’. Who could fly higher in the sky, who could breathe the hotter fire, who could eat the most waffles at breakfast, yadda, yadda, yadda.”  
  
Orin giggled.

“But no matter what they did,” he continued, “they could never best the other.”

She nodded, following along.

“When they grew up, one went to the East, and the other went to the West. They didn’t speak to each other for years! Centuries even! But despite havin’ grown apart, they both suffered from the same vice....”

“Which is?”

“Greed.”

He flicked his wrist and several silver coins appeared, “Specifically, a greed for beauty.”

He allowed the coins to slip in and out of his fingers, and Orin watched, squeezing her knees tighter.  
  
“They both traveled across their respective lands, searchin’ for all things beautiful and valuable. Gold, silver, precious metals, Persian rugs, good food, first edition comics, ya name it!

He closed his fist around the silver and when he reopened his hand, it had been replaced with a single jade coin. Orin’s smile grew and her eyes widened.

“One day, while searchin’ for somethin’ else to add to their collections, they both spied the most beautiful woman in the whole world. I mean, seriously, she was a knockout! Everyone had a mad hard-on for her!”

Orin snorted, and cocked a brow, “Mm-hm...”

“Both Dragon brothers fell in love with her at first sight. They’d never seen anything so beautiful in their entire lives! More beautiful than gold, or silver, precious gems, or even the blown glass collection they both started.”

He waved his hand and the jade coin rolled over the top of his hand and back into his palm, he quickly curled his fingers around it, making it disappear.

“But, there was a problem—they couldn’t both have her. So, the brothers came together and started arguin’ over who had spotted her first, and which one would be the better husband for her. The fightin’ got so outta control, that they took to the skies and began to battle in the heavens. However—”

“Neither one can ever best the other.” Orin finished.

“Bingo!” Eli pointed a finger at her, then quickly flipped his hand over, revealing a wrapped piece of chocolate in his open palm. Orin took it with an amused smile, popping it into her mouth before looking back to the lights in the sky.

“What happened to the woman?”

He sighed dramatically, “Tale as old as times. She got fed up with ‘em, ran off with an Orthopedist and had nine children with a two car garage.”

Orin burst into laughter.

“She weighs 300lbs now and sells cosmetics.”

She laughed so hard, she coughed, and Eli watched her, a smile on his own face. One that reached his eyes. here was something about the way Orin laughed...something incomparable. She turned to look at him, swallowing the rest of the chocolate before scrunching her nose in suspicion, “Really? Is that all true?”

Eli paused, searching her eyes, before bringing his hand to his chest, “Hand-to-my-heart, darlin’.”

She stuck the very tip of her tongue out at him, and with a chuckle, looked back to the lights; allowing herself to get lost in them once more. Silence fell, and Eli couldn’t look away. He watched her profile, and the wispy tendrils of light and luster that danced across her skin; almost in sync with the Aurora in the sky.

_She can’t be real. Nothing could ever be so perfect._

They sat for a time, she watching the lights, he watching her, until finally, she turned to face him with a smile. Their eyes locked, and slowly...ever so slowly, Orin’s smile dropped into the tiniest upturn of her lips. Her eyes though, they never stopped beaming. Turning gentle, filling with something so warm....

His own expression shifted to match her own, his smile became small, but his eyes were swimming in an unspoken emotion. Neither spoke. Sometimes it was better to be silent, to be reverent.

And then...she reached out and took his hand in her own. He allowed her to guide him, to intertwine their fingers, pressing their palms together. A quiver of absolute joy surged up his spine, and he swallowed the lump forming in his throat. His heart racing, made all the more electrifying when she gently scooted closer, and leaned against his side; lowering her head upon his shoulder.

He couldn’t breathe. He couldn’t think.

She let out a sigh and he watched the steam of her breath escape upwards to dissipate in the night. His lips twitched, he could feel his face flushing, and if he died right then and there, it would be exquisite!

She had completely relaxed against him, and he felt himself slowly sink into her as well, tilting his head to rest upon her own. Her hair tucked beneath his chin, and he closed his eyes for a moment, trying not to think. Just trying to feel.

_More beautiful than gold._

They watched the lights a little longer.

* * *

They remained hand-in-hand as they came down the mountain, their Ghosts lighting the way once again as they snuck back into the camp. Eli walked Orin to her tent, being the true gentleman he was deep down inside. Something only Orin ever got to see. When they reached the entrance she turned to face him, their fingers still locked together. Standing for a moment, not speaking, just bashful smiles on their faces, and neither one letting the other go. Orin looked down at their hands with a thoughtful expression, and Eli found himself pining to know what she was thinking.

Finally, her eyes glanced up to him, and her smile softened,

“Thank you, Eli, for sharing that with me.” Her voice was a whisper, trying not to wake anyone in the surrounding tents, “That was the most beautiful thing I’ve ever seen.”

His smile grew softer as well, “You’re welcome, darlin’.”

They still hadn’t let go of each other.

Orin’s eyes widened for a brief second, and she was the one to break contact. Beginning to remove her coat to give him back the sweater. Eli watched, and a thought came to him, something he couldn’t ignore...he wanted her to have it.

“Nah, ya keep it.” He shook his head.

She froze, eyes widening at his suggestion, “What? No, I couldn’t possibly! You love this sweater!” She kept her voice down.

He continued to smile at her, reassuring that it was alright. True, someone had made that sweater for him. A gift from the ones he had called family, all those years ago in Eaton, when he had been a man called Germaine. He had carried it with him ever since he left behind the charred remains of huts and the graves of those he loved. That sweater had become his most cherished possession...but he cherished Orin as well, and now—he wanted her to have it. He wanted to give the most precious thing he owned to the most precious person in his life.

“It’s fine, “ He shook his head, “It looks good on ya anyways.”

He offered her a wink and watched as her expression shifted, something warm filling her eyes, as she slowly lowered her hands from the hem, and nodded.

“Thank you, Eli. I love it. I’ll take good care of it, trust.” There was a tremble in her voice, emotion barely held at bay.

He chuckled, “I don’t doubt ya.”

And with that, she unzipped the flap of the entrance and turned towards him one last time, her expression more beautiful than ever before, whispering, “Good night, my Eli.”

His heart skipped.

“Good night, my lovely Orin.”

* * *

Eli couldn’t sleep. He laid on the futon inside his tent, bundled in blankets. Outside the wind picked up and he listened to it rustle the canopy above him, he could feel the biting cold of it but his own internal fire kept the heat around him.

The glow of the campfires outside provided a dim light inside his surroundings, and he could see his Ghost curled on top of a rucksack near the entrance, shutters closed in sleep.

Nearly everyone had retreated to their own tents for bed, but he heard the muffled voices of the watch Guards, and the fussy whine of a baby waking in the night. It began to coo then quieted down; its mother most likely soothing it back to sleep.

But he wasn’t in the moment, no, his mind was filled with thoughts of Orin.

_My god...Orin._

Skin made of stardust and eyes that glowed like moons. He couldn’t breathe when he looked at her. When she spoke he clung to every word she said, as her mind and soul were just as beautiful as her form. No...even more so. He sighed and clenched his eyes shut, regret washing over him. He was so stupid! He was such a coward! Tonight, in that glorious time they had shared, he could’ve told her the truth. He _should’ve_ told her the truth. That he was completely and truly—

He hated himself. His stomach hurt, his chest ached. The moment had passed and he had squandered it. Too afraid to say anything, and it was merely a painful reminder of his greatest flaw and weakness. That fear always held him back in everything.

_Damned idiot._

But, when all was said and done, their friendship was more important than anything else in the entire world. System. Galaxy. Universe. If he had told her the truth, and she didn’t share in his feelings, that would’ve ruined everything. The joy of simply being her friend would’ve been lost.

No. This was for the best. But It didn’t make it hurt any less.

His eyes flew open when he heard gentle steps coming closer. He thought for a moment that it was merely a passerby, but as the light tramping upon the snow and mud grew louder, he realized that it was indeed someone coming to his tent. Chim-Ung awoke and Eli watched as he quickly turned to scan the entrance; ever vigilant in his role as his companion. He checked for a threat, but after a moment’s pause, he slowly turned to fix Eli with a glowing stare instead.

He listened closely, and in the dull light of the fire outside, he could see the silhouette of someone crouch at the entrance of his tent. He froze, careful not to make a sound, and narrowed his eyes at his Ghost, wondering why it wasn’t moving or saying anything. The little light simply continued to stare.

“Eli?” Orin’s voice whispered, and he felt his whole body go numb.

She was outside! She had snuck over to his tent!

_Why? What’s wrong?_

“Yeah?” he whispered back, and he watched as she unzipped the flap, peering in to look at him. Her eyes glowed in the dark. Like a cat in the jungle. She paused, watching him, as he laid on his side staring back.

A moment passed, neither moved nor spoke.

_What is she doing?_

There was a question in her eyes. Something almost...pleading, and Eli grew more confused. The silence was deafening, but the tension was broken when Eli’s Ghost fluttered past Orin and out of the tent; leaving them alone. Yet, for some reason, it made Eli all the more nervous.

She turned her head to watch the little drone soar away, then returned her gaze to him; zipping the tent shut behind her. His heart was about to beat out of his chest, and he watched her crawl across the floor on all fours towards him, her eyes brighter than he’d ever seen and a small smile upon her lips. She looked directly into him, and he was terrified.

“Eli? It’s cold.” She whispered, “So very cold.”

He swallowed, body tense beneath the blankets, and he nearly leapt out of his skin when she reached out and pulled them aside.

_Breathe! Just breathe!_

She slid onto the futon and under the covers to lay beside him. He trembled. His mind whirling.

_What was she doing?! Why?!_

Her back now to him, she reached behind to take his wrist and pull him to her. Guiding his arms to wrap around her waist, and used her feet to link with his own; melding their hips and legs together. They fit so perfectly.

“I need your warmth.” Her voice was barely above a whisper as she relaxed into his embrace, “You’re my bonfire in the dark.”

She still wore the sweater Eli had gifted her, and he found himself holding his breath again. He fought to stop trembling, and as her fingers slowly ran up and down his arms, the fear and the tension began to fade. She was in his arms, and nothing had ever felt more right.

He adjusted slightly, bringing his forehead to the back of her hair, and watched the galaxy swirl about her skin, mesmerized by how alien it was. He finally took a breath, and her scent filled him. That smell that was all Orin. Of apples, chocolate and honeycomb. Oh...he could devour her!

That need of her...that want for her...his Orin. She wanted warmth? He would provide it. He would give her anything. So, he relaxed and allowed his light to float to the surface. The fire inside of him burned a little hotter and he heard her sigh in contentment,

“You’ll keep me warm?”

His lips brushed behind her ear, and with a shuddering breath, he whispered back, “Always.”

They lay together. A perfect moment in an imperfect world.

Minutes passed and they both sank into the bliss of warmth and comfort. But Eli was still restless. That question in his head and the feeling in his heart that would not quiet down.

He had been a fool earlier, could he be a wiseman now?

Outside the wind picked up again, and the canvas rustled. The firelight flickering in the breeze. He bit his lip, swallowed the lump forming in his throat, and then—

“Orin?”

“Hmm?” She sighed, her back slowly rising and falling against his chest.

“Orin, I...I need you to know something...” He had dropped the slang, dropped the lazy manner of speech...if there was ever a time he needed to be eloquent, it was right now. His voice was a cracked whisper, barely audible, but she heard,

“Hmm?”

He closed his eyes and had a moment of second guessing. What should he say? Because in all honesty, hand-to-his-heart honesty, those three words wouldn’t be enough. _I Love You_ was not enough!

He _more_ than loved her. What he felt couldn’t be summed up in a single word or phrase! She was everything! She was the sun! The entire world! How do you tell someone that they’re the very air itself? That you’ll suffocate without them?

He trembled once more, and pressed his lips to her ear. A breath, a steeling of his nerves, and then—

“I want to stay like this forever.”

It was the best way he could say it.

But a minute passed with no answer, and his heart began to sink. He listened carefully, trying to determine if she had fallen asleep, but he noticed her long lashes blink, and felt the rhythm of her breath change. Silence was all the answer he needed.

_I ruined our friendship._

His heart was shattering and a piece of his spirit was fleeing with it. What had he been thinking? And so, he began to loosen his hold on her, to let her go.

He’d overplayed his hand.

He froze when her grip tightened on his arms, holding him still, and his breath caught in his throat when she began pulling him back towards her with that Titan strength of hers. He couldn’t move. She held him so tightly. And then—

“Me too.” She whispered back. “Let’s stay this way forever.”

Oh, how he died and was reborn in that moment!

His mind raced with all that had been said between the lines. An unspoken promise within those words that Orin clearly understood. She turned her head and looked back at him, the tips of their noses touching as they watched each other; a breath apart. Her eyes were filled with emotion. A deep confession and a flood of truth pouring from them, and Eli had to fight the urge to cry at the sight.

Love has its own language, and everyone embraces their own dialect. Orin had always been fascinated by language, and Eli had tried so hard to learn how to speak to her, that in this ambitious quest for companionship, they had created a speech all their own. This was a destiny that was inescapable. Neither wanted it to end, and so, what else could they do but make a vow?

They fell asleep in each other’s arms, completely chaste. They weren’t fools. What they had was sacred, and they wouldn’t defile it. No. Passionate and unbridled love-making would come later. They would have centuries of it.

They thought they had eternity.


	4. The Lamentable Truth

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Eli and Orin's secret is discovered, and everything changes...

**The End of The Dark Age - An Inn In The Safe City.**

He woke lying on his back, confused at the sight of an actual ceiling above his head and not the canvas of the tent he had grown so accustomed to. Rafters and beams of wood keeping the elements at bay, and after several seconds, when sleep had worn off, he remembered that he was in a room in the Safe City—and then he remembered what had happened in the night.

_Dear god, last night!_

He closed his eyes again and just basked in the glory of it all. Remembering the feeling of her moving against him, and the sound of her voice crying out—Oh, it had been overkill! A feeling of pure euphoria washed over him, and he sighed in contentment.

He had made love to a goddess. A man as unworthy as he.

Orin lay with her head upon his chest, arms encircling his waist as she slept on. His own arms were wrapped around her, holding her tightly to him, and he listened to her breathing; slow and gentle. A warmth and peace they were so rarely ever afforded, and he opened his eyes to watch her. Her lips slightly parted, hair hanging about her face, and he reached his hand up to brush it aside; tucking the strands behind her ear. He allowed his fingertips to gently drag along her cheek, and watched the pale blue of her skin shimmer in silver as it trailed behind his touch. Her naked body glowing beside his.

He had never known anything so splendid! His beautiful wife...and after last night, she was his completely, but more importantly, he was hers. He gave her all of himself, gave her everything.

She sighed, leaning into his caress, and for the first time in a long time, Eli felt true joy.

A tiny moan escaped her, and he watched her long lashes flutter open. Like him, she took a moment to blink the sleep away before realization set in, and he could see a smile of pure bliss form on her lips. She slid her hand up to his chest, before bringing her gaze to meet his. Eyes still heavy from exhaustion, and yet, they shined.

“Hello, love.” She mumbled.

“Hey, darlin’.”

She sighed again and ran her fingers along his skin, sending a shiver through him.

“I’m starving.” She hummed under her breath.

“Me too.”  
  
She chuckled, “But that’s a given.”

He couldn’t argue that. She yawned and stretched her long legs and back, muscles tight beneath alien skin— it was a gorgeous sight! But then she fell limp once more against him, and a scornful sigh escaped her.

“I don’t want to get up though.” She confessed.

Honestly, he didn’t want to move either, he just wanted to stay in bed all day with her. The Guard wouldn’t be pushing south until tomorrow, and this was their leave time anyways. They could do whatever they wanted, they could sleep the day away, or find other things to occupy themselves with. Why not? That’s what couples were supposed to do, right? Besides, they had a lot of time to make up for...

He chuckled when a realization struck him, “Ya know what? I’m choosin’ ya over food.”

She gasped and whipped her head up, a huge smile on her face, “Really?! You’re gonna stay in bed with me instead of eating?!”

He smirked, his hand gently taking her chin between his thumb and finger as he held her gaze.

“You’re all I need.” He whispered.

She batted her eyelashes, “You magnificent bastard!”

He laughed out loud at that, and Orin fixed him with a coy expression, drawing circles on his chest with her fingertips.

“Last night...” she began, and he could see a blush forming on her cheeks, “was incredible.”

Another sigh escaped her and she closed her eyes, while he swallowed, feeling the heat rise in him again as his heart picked up the pace. It had been beyond incredible! It felt as though he’d truly been brought to life!

“You’re amazing,” He whispered, “Absolute perfection.”

He meant it. One hundred percent.

A pause of gratified silence fell on them, and she was the first to break it.

“Well,” she chewed her lip, “If we’re gonna stay in bed...”

“Mmhm.”

“How should we pass the time...?” She opened her eyes, and despite their intimate position, there was a demureness in them, and Eli realized she was asking permission to make a move.

He smirked, leaning down to brush his lips against her own; a reassurance that she was free to do as she pleased.

“Whatever ya want, darlin’.” He whispered against her lips, breathing into her, and he felt her entire body tremble against him.

The invitation was made. Putting himself completely at her mercy, and her lips curled sensually at his words; the timidity beginning to fade. That Titan spirit was coming through, and without taking her eyes from his, she leaned down to press a kiss to his chest, followed by another, and then another...

He shuddered, his head falling back on the pillow as his eyes rolled shut. Orin slowly forming a trail down his torso, and his breath quickened as she slid lower, causing his hands to leave her shoulders to clutch at the sheets beside him, and when she boldly brought her mouth even lower...he was gasping for air. This was intoxicating! She was dangerous! The entire universe could come crashing down around them at this very moment, and it would be a glorious death! To be killed softly by this glorious woman!

A groan escaped him when she brought her leg over his hips to straddle his waist, and he opened his eyes to watch her perch atop him. Eyes glowing from behind the thick curls of her now flattened mohawk, and the way she looked down at him...Oh, it was with absolute unbridled lust! Heart hammering in his chest, the desire to touch her overwhelmed him, and he reached out to slowly run his hands over her thighs, along her hips and waist, and finally...reached her breasts. Orin gasped and arched into his touch—head tilted back, lips parted...and that was it, he couldn’t take it anymore!

He shot up, and brought his mouth to the crook of her neck, kissing and sucking at her skin as he wrapped his arms around her to hold her steady, to pull her as close as possible. She let out small cry, and he trembled at the sound. Her scent, her taste—he couldn’t get enough! Legs wrapped around him, fingers clutching his hair as she panted out his name, and he could feel her burning beneath his touch. Christ almighty—he needed her so badly!

But then—

Everything abruptly stopped when someone banged on the door.

They froze, hearts leaping into their throats, and Orin clutched Eli a little tighter as they both listened with bated breath. The mood instantly dying.

“Orin! Girl, you up?! Let’s go eat!”

Eli flinched at the sound of Paveh’s voice. Irritation rising in him at the thought of the little blonde invading their paradise...Holy hell, he hated that girl! She always ruined everything!

“Oh shit—” Orin hissed, and Eli looked up to see her eyes wide in panic.

Another BANG on the door, “Orin! You decent?!”

“NO!” Orin cried out, and she began to frantically untangle herself from Eli.

“Shit! I gave her the second key!” She whispered.

“You what?!”

He began to scurry as well. The two of them trying to climb over each other to reach their clothes, tossed haphazardly on the floor.

“Meh! Who cares, we’re both girls!” Paveh announced, and a sudden click signaled the door was now unlocked.

“No! Don’t come in!” Orin shouted, and she fell forward onto her face upon the mattress, while Eli was still trying to roll out from under her.

Too late. The door flew open and Paveh strutted in like she owned the place.

“Hey, Bitch! Time to get up—”

She cut herself off, eyes bulging and jaw dropping at the sight before her. Orin lay naked upon her stomach, while an equally nude Eli sat upright with his legs still trapped under Orin’s. They stared back in shock.

Then Paveh screamed.

It was enough to snap them out of their stupor, and Eli quickly threw the blanket across his lap, while Orin grabbed the sheet and climbed out of bed, quickly wrapping it around herself.

“Shut the door!” Orin shouted over Paveh, but her fellow Titan didn’t seem to hear.

“Orin?! What the fuck?!” The girl’s voice cracked, and she waved her hands spastically.

Ignoring her, Orin strode past and shut the door quickly, rounding on her comrade; annoyance written all over her.

If looks could kill...

But Paveh was oblivious and continued on, now turning her attention to Eli who still sat in bed.

“You...you...” She stammered, clearly trying to regain composure, but her mouth couldn’t keep up with her brain.

Eli just watched, and honestly, thought the whole thing was pretty hilarious. But when a smirk formed on his mouth, it was the trigger that sent Paveh into further rage.

“Eli?—ELI?!” Her voice escalating into a horrible shriek. Absolute indignation, and her expression turned to one of disgust. Nevertheless, Eli gave her a smile that was all teeth.

“Hey, Gurrrrrl!”

As usual, Paveh took the bait. Too headstrong and shallow to realize when she was being goaded.

“What are you fucking doing, creep?!”

_Oh, this was too easy..._

“HER.” He nodded towards Orin and winked.

Paveh scoffed in disgust, while Orin fixed him with a look of warning; exasperation in her eyes. He was playing with fire, but hell—he played with fire all the time anyways! He wasn’t afraid of Paveh, she was a tool like the rest of them.

The braided blonde was turning red in the face and she rounded on Orin.

“Seriously?! Eli?! You...you slept with Eli?!”

“That’s none of your business, Paveh.” Orin’s tone suggested there was no room for argument, but once again, that didn’t stop the other Titan from rambling on as though Orin had never said a word.

“Girl! If you needed that _itch_ scratched, why didn’t you just hook up with Jashen or Nave! They’ve been competing for you forever! Hell! _ANYONE_ is better than Eli!”

Her tone had become almost frantic, clearly appalled by the entire situation. This was something she couldn’t understand and refused to accept.

“I _said_ —this is none of your business!” Orin stood straight, clutching the sheet to her body with her hand visibly trembling, and from his place on the bed, Eli tensed as he watched his wife; recognizing the beginnings of her temper.

Paveh whipped around to fix Eli with a nasty glare, and he narrowed his own eyes, mocking her scrutiny.

“Who do you think you are?” She hissed.

He pursed his lips and thought about it for a second, which made Paveh even redder in the face.

“You don’t belong here, _roach_!” Her fists were shaking at her sides, “Why don’t you just leave already?! Get out!”

Eli smirked, cocking a brow at her, “Okay.”

Without warning, he whipped the blanket off himself and rose out of bed, fully exposed as he slowly reached for his clothes.

“Jesus!” Paveh screamed and looked away, “You’re such a disgusting creep!”

She looked back to Orin.

“I can’t believe you fucked Eli! I mean—how drunk were you last night?!”

Eli clenched his jaw, his stomach dropping at the insult, and he kept his head down; focusing on getting dressed. His hands trembled, he tried to ignore her as he stepped into his shorts before pulling his cargos up over his hips. Goddamn, there was so much he could say! But...that look on Orin’s face...he knew when it was time to keep his mouth shut. His wife was a hurricane. Slow to build, but once she struck—it was devastating and over in a blink. Paveh was poking a sleeping giant.

“Orin, can we talk about this—?!”

Orin held up a finger, cutting Paveh off, “No! You need to shut-up and leave.”

The tone of her voice conveyed all the authority she possessed, and though it was subtle, Eli noticed Paveh flinch. The Titan glared back, nostrils flaring as she studied Orin, and Eli paused in his own actions to watch the scene unfold.

Orin was about to tip over the edge. He could feel it...

“What’s wrong with you?” Paveh’s voice was barely above a whisper, distaste hissing across the words, “This isn’t like you—”

“And how do you know what I’m like, Paveh? Hm?” Orin’s eyes glowed.

Confusion crossed Paveh’s face, a second of silence as she tried to process the question, “We’ve been friends for centuries! I _know_ you!”

“Obviously, you don’t. You’ve formed opinions of me based on what you _want_ me to be as a Titan. As a Guardsman. But do you actually know me? Do any of you know _anything_ about me?”

Orin’s voice was beginning to tremble, and Eli swallowed when he recognized the pain creeping through. She was beyond pissed, she was raging—seething, and he realized that this was going deeper than just having her taste in men insulted. She was in pain about something else.

“Oh, come on, Orin!” Paveh groaned, rolling her eyes.

_Bad move, sistah..._

“You think this interloper is going to fill some sort of void in your life?!” She pointed an accusatory finger at Eli, “He’s nothing but a foul-mouthed, lying, cheat! He’s a fungus-among-us! Speaking against everything we stand for! Everything that matters! He gives us _all_ a bad name!”

"Everything that matters? Blind servitude? Giving up individuality for a pack mentality?” Orin countered, her knuckles white as they clutched the sheet at her breast. If she wasn’t careful, she would rip it.

“We serve the Traveler by serving mankind.” Paveh hissed, “We are tools—”

“No! We’re people! We’re not ants serving a fat and lazy queen!”

Paveh’s mouth hung open, staring at Orin as though she had never seen her before.

“Holy hell, Orin!” She snapped, “Did Eli _literally_ bang your brains out?!”

She rounded on Eli once more. He stood shirtless and vulnerable, staring at the two fighting women. Wondering if he should duck and cover, for when Titans argued....it usually resulted in property damage.

Paveh’s eyes bore into his own, and there was nothing but pure and unadulterated hatred in them.

“That _thing_ right there is nothing but a parasite! Absolute trash—”

She was abruptly silenced when Orin stepped forward and grabbed Paveh’s shoulder, whipping her around and slamming her into the wall with a speed and force that shook the room. Paveh could only flinch and hiss in pain as Orin pinned her tightly with one hand.

“DON’T YOU EVER SPEAK ABOUT MY HUSBAND THAT WAY AGAIN! DO YOU HEAR ME?! EVER!”

Eli was frozen to the spot, eyes wide and heart hammering. Orin had snapped, but at the last second, pulled her attack, and poor Paveh could do nothing but cringe and tremble in her grasp.

The Titan’s eyes moved over Orin’s face. Fury radiating from every inch of her.

“Hu...husband? He’s your husband?!” Paveh choked, her eyes shifting to Eli with a look of painful disbelief, and all Eli could do was stare back.

“Oh my God, Orin...why?” Her voice sounded small this time, as her eyes shifted back to Orin’s. All the fight letting out of her.

“It’s none of your business! And I will _not_ tell you again!”

With that said, Orin let go, and Paveh stumbled slightly to stand straight. Rubbing at her shoulder where Orin’s iron grip had held her. She gazed up at her once dear friend through a curtain of bangs that had fallen loose at the force of Orin’s attack. Pain and confusion flooding her eyes. But if Orin noticed the hurt, she didn’t acknowledge it, pointing to the door instead with a powerful command:

“Get out of _our_ room—NOW!”

Silence fell. Orin glowering, Paveh breathing hard with barely contained emotion, and Eli bracing for impact.

Several seconds passed. Paveh’s eyes darted to Eli one more time, and with a sneer, she stormed past Orin, throwing the door open with just enough force that it slammed into the wall, leaving a decent sized hole behind. Harsh footfalls stomped down the hallway and they listened as Paveh made her way down the stairs and far away from them.

They were alone once again, but neither moved. Orin standing in the center of the room, sheet still clutched in shaking hands, while Eli stood half-dressed at the foot of the bed.

What was there to say?

Paveh had expressed a truth that both of them had already known. That the prejudices that had separated the Risen from the very beginning, still secretly held in the hearts of the Guardians. There was too much dogma, too much politicking, too many personal grudges that festered in their ranks, and Eli had been the target of it all.

He wasn’t a victim though. He knew that. He had brought the contempt of the others upon himself by being too openly critical of the Light and The Traveler. His mistrust of the Ghosts, and his accusatory nature directed at the other Guardsman had made him the cancer. They wanted to cut him out, but Orin wouldn’t let that happen, and because of this...because of _him_...she was beginning to feel the rejection as well.

He hated himself for that.

_She is their finest warrior...and now..._

Eli watched her. Her back to him, and he could see the slight fall in her shoulders. Her entire countenance deflating, and he ached to touch her—to comfort her. She didn’t deserve any of this! To be miserable and sad! He tried to think of something to say, something that could fix this...something that would bring _his_ Orin back. But all he could think of was:

“Thanks for defending my honor, honey.”

He wanted to kick himself as soon as the words left him. That was the wrong thing to say—she’d think he just saw it as one big joke! But he didn’t! In fact, no one else could understand the severity of it all as he did! He loved her so much. He just wanted to make her happy. That was the only reason he kept on living. He had promised her! He had promised he would live only for her! He would _never_ break that vow!

Her shoulders began to shake, and he flinched. He really _had_ made it worse, and now, he needed to find a way to fix it.

_Oh, Orin...I’m so sorry, my darlin’!_

But when she started to chuckle, Eli startled, and realized—she wasn’t trembling in rage or sorrow...no, she was....laughing.

“You okay, babe?” His voice was gentle, and he watched as she shook her head, bringing one hand up to cover her mouth. She giggled out loud.

“Did you see the look on her face when she saw us?!”

She burst into laughter, doubling over before turning to face him. Her eyes were bright with mirth once more, and her laughter and joy was contagious. Eli followed, plopping down on the bed and laughing harder than he had in a long time. She joined him, and they chortled away the frustration and heartache of the entire situation.

Their laughter died down, tears in their eyes and aches in their bellies from the hilarity of it all.

“I think I ruined her for life.” Eli admitted.

Orin snorted, and slapped his arm, “She’s just jealous.”

He laughed even harder at that.

A minute passed, then two, and they sank into silence. One that was no longer comfortable. Instead, something heavy hung in the air. Paveh had disturbed their serenity, and though Orin was strong in the face, Eli could still tell...

She fiddled with the knot of the sheet about her, eyes downcast and out of focus. She was lost in thought and Eli worried for her. Oh, how he wanted to just hold her...to let her know that everything was fine and that Paveh was just being a bitch. But deep-seated fears were making themselves known.

A lamentable truth.

He had to do something for her...and he wracked his brain to think of something. Something to make her forget...

“Hey!”

They both jumped again, heads turning towards the door, having completely forgot that it was still wide open. Their Ghosts hovered in the doorway, and Eli realized they had forgotten all about them; having locked them out of the room to engage in their long overdue wedding night.

Gol was clearly fuming about it.

“Can we come in now?! Get decent!” His tone was irritated and whiny.

Chim-Ung said nothing. Instead, Eli watched as his Ghost stared at Orin, studying her before shifting his blue iris to him. A question there, Eli could see it, and he was reminded of just how perceptive and clever his Little Light was. Eli frowned, a silent command for his Ghost to let it go, and thankfully, Chim-Ung looked away.

“I want to leave.” Orin’s voice was hoarse, “I want to leave right now.”

Eli looked down to see her staring at the floor once more. That pensive gleam in her eye was the tell-tale sign that she was set on something, and when Orin was stuck on a thought, there was no pulling her away from it. So, he swallowed, reached out and took her hand, bringing it to his lips.

A gentle kiss for his lady, and he watched a small smile paint her lips.

“Okay.” He whispered.

He would follow her anywhere, take her anywhere. If it was just the two of them...then everything would be alright.  
  
Eli knew it to be true. He wondered if Orin did as well.


	5. The Silence That Screams

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> After their secret is discovered, Orin tries to cope with the ridicule she receives over her relationship with Eli...

** THE END OF THE DARK AGE – IN THE SAFE CITY **

He knew where to find her. All you had to do was look up.

He had slipped out the back door of the Inn into the cold night air, and his eyes immediately turned to the roof. Sure enough, she had climbed up there, wrapped in her favorite blanket to shield against the chill. He could see the steam of her breath as her eyes gazed out at the makeshift city. That little stress ball of hers hovered above her shoulder, and was clearly talking her ear off. Eli couldn’t make out the words, but whatever Gol was saying, Orin clearly wasn’t paying any attention. She was lost in her own thoughts.

He sighed as he watched her. His heart heavy over everything that had occurred in the past twenty-four hours. She had endured ridicule and criticism by those who claimed to love her, she had potentially lost the friendship of the ones who took her in when she was reborn into this shit-hole world—and it was all because of him. He felt guilty. He wouldn’t let the other Guardsman see it, but he truly felt that maybe, just maybe, they were right about him. He didn’t belong there. He wasn’t a champion of The Traveler, nor a glorious warrior they would sing ballads about. No, to them, he was a raggedy bartender who was rezzed by mistake and preached a dangerous doctrine that opposed the teachings of The Speaker—and yet, Orin chose to support him; to be with him.

That didn’t sit right with anyone. She deserved better.

He flipped the collar of his trench coat up to seal in some warmth, and with a single step, he allowed his light to flow. Levitating straight up, and into her line of vision, hovering at the edge of the roof. Her eyes were luminescent, neon blue in the shadows that fell over her, and when they met his own, a smile spread across her face.

“I wish I could do that.” She spoke.

He smiled back, “Well, maybe ya can. Have ya ever tried?”

“I’m not a Warlock.”

“And I’m not a Titan but I can kick all yo’ asses no problem. Trust.”

She chuckled. Gol’s eye darting between Orin and Eli, looking uncomfortable and annoyed—as per usual. He finally chittered and sped away, having learned to read-the-room over time.

Orin didn’t bat an eyelash at his departure, instead, she shook her head and addressed Eli.

“I can’t do magic..” Her smile dropped slightly, “And if I could... I would’ve exhausted it.”

He tilted his head, brow furrowed, “Meanin’?”

“I’d make my own world.” Her voice came out small, and Eli studied her, watching the spark of something flicker briefly and then diminish.

“That’s quite ambitious, little lady. Where would ya start?”

She chewed on her lip, and rolled her eyes up in thought, “I’d start by banishing the cold. Make it summer all the time.”

He chuckled, “But nature needs to cycle, darlin’.”

“Not in my world. The sun would always shine—but not too hot. Just warm enough.”

His smile was growing as she prattled on.

“I’d cause groves of apple trees to bloom all year long, and chocolate would be considered a vegetable.”

She began to rock side to side as she thought some more, “Everyone would be able to breathe underwater, and talk to animals.”

“Hmm...I’ve always wanted to chit-chat the weather with a wombat.” He nodded.

She snorted at his comment, and continued, “No one would fight. There wouldn’t be any judgment, or hatred. Everyone would just...live their lives, free—"

Her voice trailed off, leaving her sentence incomplete, and Eli’s smile faltered. There was sadness hanging over her. He knew—he could see it and feel it. She shifted her position, adjusting the blanket around her and sighed, her breath rising in the air as her eyes looked to the city once more. People passed by below, fairy lights and lanterns illuminating the stone walkways as families went out for dinner, and groups of friends gathered in the bars to unwind for the day. The night was still young, but the sky was already black, filled with stars and a half moon that defied the clouds that rolled by.

He watched his wife, saw the unshed tears in her eyes as she looked away to stare down at her feet, running the edge of her blanket through her fingers. He knew when she sought comfort she’d engage in this little habit, and his eyes softened.

“Eli, what would you do if you could make your own world?”

He started at her question, and her eyes moved up to meet his. Full of innocence and genuine curiosity as she waited for his answer. Eli didn’t know. He’d never thought about something like that. Wouldn’t that make you a God? Wouldn’t that be too much responsibility? That wasn’t very appealing to him. But, Eli gave it a thought for her, head tilting up to gaze at the moon. Thinking about orbs hanging in space and the Masters who created them...

After a minute, he licked his lips and said, “I would make a big valley with a mountain overlookin’ it. Then I’d put a temple at the very top just for you.”

Yeah. That sounded ‘bout right.

He looked back to Orin and saw her face scrunched in confusion.

“A temple?” she asked, “Why a temple?”

He shrugged, “Cause...anythin’ less feels wrong...” That was true. He couldn’t think small with Orin, everything just needed to be—larger than life.

He watched as a smile slowly spread across her face, and she shifted the blanket to reach an arm towards him. The moonlight reflecting off her skin.

“Quit showing off and come sit with me.” She chuckled.

Eli smirked, taking her hand in his and stepping onto the roof. She spread her blanket open in invitation, and he carefully sat beside her, the blanket engulfing the two of them, and Orin laid her head upon his shoulder; nestling up as close as she could.

“Keep me warm, love.” A sigh escaped her.

He took a deep breath and channeled his flame to burn a little hotter. The temperature change rose quickly, and Orin moaned in contentment. Heat and peace filling them both, and they hunkered down to watch the stars. Across the city, music played, people talked, laughed, and dogs barked. The smell of food and burning firewood reached their noses, and for all the ugly and terrible things the world had to offer, Eli had to admit that it had its delights.

_Can’t we just stay this way forever?_

“Tell me something.” Orin whispered, and Eli waited for her to continue.

A second passed, and when she didn’t say anything, he grew confused, wondering if she was asking a question or a favor. He opened his mouth but she beat him to it—

“Tell me something...wonderful. Something fantastic.”

She was asking for one of his stories.

He felt her nuzzle into his neck, and he cringed when he heard a thickness in her tone. She was stifling tears, she was trying to hide her pain, and he swallowed down the hurt forming in himself. He couldn’t let his wife be hurt...he was her husband, he was supposed to be her comforter, so he thought for a moment, and then knew _exactly_ what she needed...

“Far off in the east,” he began, “There is a hill. And at the top of this hill, there is a tree. And in this tree, there is a bird.”

He cleared his throat and adjusted his legs, pulling Orin closer and onto his lap.

“Now, this bird, is special—and by special, I mean this bird could do somethin’ no other birds could do...”

“What’s that?” She whispered.

“He could do taxes.”

She snorted so hard, she lurched forward and fell back against him with a bark of laughter.

He grinned and continued, “He was damn good at it too. Could crunch numbers like a son-of-a-bitch!”

She was shaking in his arms now.

“Man, oh man, he knew how to itemized deductibles to their maximum pay-off, cite the dividends, and slip work expenses in like it ain’t nobody’s business! Trust!”

She couldn’t stop giggling.

“Well, he was doin’ aaalll the taxes for the animal kingdom: A CEO Zebra of a Fortune 500—BOOM! Yacht write off!” He snapped his finger to empathize the point, “A cute little Bush Baby in grad school?—BAM! Education credits! Ya get the picture?”

Orin nodded, her hand on her face as she snorted again, “I get the picture.” Her words were choked around laughter.

“So, he’s crunchin’ the numbers with his little beak on his little calculator. Every year, the same thing, over and over and over again. BUT—he’s got a problem...”

Orin gasped dramatically and gripped the front of Eli’s coat tighter in mock suspense.

“He was doin’ everyone else’s taxes...he didn’t do his own.” He sighed, “So, now—because he was soooooo worried about takin’ care of others and not takin’ care of himself—he gets audited!”

“No!”

“Yes!”

“Does he go to birdy-prison?” Orin gasped, “Does he become a— _jail bird_?”

He froze, narrowing his eyes, “I’m gonna throw ya off this roof for that one, darlin’.”

She laughed even harder, clinging to him, and Eli couldn’t help it, he laughed too.

_So bad!_

“Well, he _was_ gonna go to birdy-prison for what the bureaucrats said was tax evasion, but the bird was so helpful to everyone else, that all the other animals chipped in and paid his debt.”

“Aw!”

“And he never missed his taxes ever again.”

“Yay!” She clapped lightly before snuggling in again.

Silence fell, but the cheer hung in the air around them. Occasionally, Orin would giggle, and Eli’s smile would grow at the sound. They were content to just enjoy each other, and all the oddities that came with them.

“That was a good story.” She whispered, “Thank you.”

He rubbed her back and pressed a kiss to the top of her head. Holding her upon his lap, as he looked back at the stars and wondered how far away the two of them could get from this place. They didn’t belong here.

No. They should leave. Go to the stars, find a world all their own. Maybe somewhere, there were others like Orin. Maybe they could find them. Maybe she had a family—that would actually be his family now too, right? He _was_ her husband... There was something thrilling about that idea, that he could have in-laws somewhere in the universe, and if they were to find them, they would all be together. A family.

He released a sigh. Pining for one of his cigarettes, but remembering he had promised her he wouldn’t indulge.

Yeah. He’d put aside some money, buy a junked long-hauler and get it up and running. Head out into space and just drift with Orin at his side. No worries. No cares. No loyalties to anyone but themselves.

_We’ll be free at last._

His thoughts were interrupted when he felt his wife trembling in his arms. Confusion rising in him, he looked down to see her clutching at the shirt beneath his coat, knuckles white and shaking. Then panic rushed to the surface when he realized— she was crying.   
  
_Oh no— No no no!_

“Hey,” he spoke softly, “Hey, hun—what’s wrong?”

He brought his knuckle beneath her chin, gently tilting her face up to look at him, and his heart froze when he saw tears staining her cheeks. Her lips trembled with sobs as she sniffled, and there was so much pain in her eyes! Eli felt his heart breaking at the sight, and his panic rose two-fold. He hated seeing her cry—hated it! He wiped the tears from her face, mumbling reassurances that everything was going to be alright, that he was there— that he had her, and she didn’t need to cry.   
  
“Please, baby...please, don’t cry.” He peppered kisses along her brow, mumbling against her skin, begging her...  
  
He was silenced when she suddenly reached up and took his face in her hands. Eyes pleading, begging for him to not look away. There was something he needed to know, something she had to convey, and he paused, waiting. His heart about to beat out of his chest.

“Eli...” She sniffled, “I love you so much!”   
  
There was a pause as sobs began to wrack her form once more, “I love you so...SO...much!”

More tears fell and she burst into hysterics, which was the killing blow for Eli. He tightened his hold on her, rocking her gently, trying to soothe the tears away.

“I love you too, darlin’.” He whispered back, trying to reassure her, pleading for her to know that he spoke the truth, “Hand to my heart, I do!”

And then she fell weak and limp in his arms; total surrender. This powerful Titan, this mighty warrior...Eli new the truth. Only he ever saw it—the complete and absolute truth, that Orin The Sunbreaker was a woman who felt so much. A heart that burned with love and compassion, that was so fragile and easily broken—just like him. That’s why they found each other, that’s why they needed each other. No one would ever—nor _could_ they ever—understand. She leaned up, pressing her forehead against his, needing to be as close as possible; needing comfort. She was breaking in his grasp, and Eli’s lips sought hers out, kissing her. Gentle and reassuring at first, but Orin deepened it instantly, obviously needing to know that he was real, that he was there with her, that what they were sharing was stable.

So much passion, so much promise.

When they parted, both gasping for air, Eli ran his fingers into her hair, and his lips pressed against her forehead until she finally relaxed into him. Head returning to his shoulder as she calmed herself. Her breath turning slow and deep, the sobs softening to hiccups, and all he could do was hold her and keep her warm as he promised he always would.

“Shh,” He coaxed her comfort, “Shh, it’s alright. My incredible Orin.”

He felt her breath even out against his chest, and her fingertips began to trace circles along his collarbone. She was soothing herself with his touch, and Eli allowed himself to relax into it.

Then he caught a glimpse of blue out of the corner of his eye, and he turned his head to see the eye of his Ghost watching them from the edge of the rooftop. There was no telling how long Chim-Ung had been there spying, but frankly, Eli didn’t really care. His Ghost hovered a little higher, eye locked on Eli, who simply offered him the tiniest smile, and that was all Chim-Ung needed. The little light fluttered over and landed beside his Chosen on the sheet metal roof. Leaning against the side of Eli’s leg. Resting, just needing that companionship too, and Eli reached down giving his little shell a flick.

Chim-Ung glanced up, and there was something about the way his shell twitched, something that made Eli think the Ghost was offering him a smile.  
  
 _He always knows..._

The four of them—Yes, even Gol included—If they disappeared, and everyone forgot about them, would it really be so bad?

Orin’s lips upon his throat brought him back into the moment, and he closed his eyes, groaning in pleasure as she kissed a trail all the way to his ear.

“Let’s go to bed.” She whispered, lust and passion coating her voice, and he smirked at what she was suggesting.

“Yes ma’am.”

Live in the now.


	6. A Fruit Tree In Winter

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> During the Dark Ages, before his time in the Pilgrim Guard, Eli hides under the name "Wu Ming" in a bar at the base of Felwinter's Peak. He makes a drastic decision regarding his former crew, and is reunited with a certain someone.
> 
> Takes place several decades after the events of Chapter 2.

**IN THE DARK AGES**  
  
He could hear them coming up the path. They were always loud and crude, not caring that it was the middle of the night and the majority of people in the small town had retired to bed.  
  
Hell, they didn’t even seem to care that the Wolves were sitting in their makeshift “temple” and could most likely hear them from above. Bold. Very bold, and very stupid. But that was the very reason why Eli had kept them close. Their feeble-mindedness made them easy to jockey.  
  
He stood behind the bar, steeling himself for what was to come. His hand clasped a bottle of whiskey while his other held a shot glass, and despite his attempt to focus, he couldn’t stop his hands from shaking.

He took a deep breath and poured a drink, the rapid clinking of glass on glass betraying just how little control he had on his nerves. He cursed under his breath then threw back the liquor, clenching his eyes shut as he swallowed hard; it burned all the way down.

_Breathe. Just breathe._

The weight of the rifle on his back was a source of both comfort and anxiety, and it pushed his shoulders forward, causing him to hunch heavier on the counter. His long hair hung in his face and he breathed deeply into his nose, parting his lips to exhale.

A mantra over and over inside his head...  
  
 _Remember you are Eli. You are the Moving-Man. Remember you are Eli. You command this crew._

Even after all these years, he still had to resolve himself to the role.

Their voices came closer, he could hear their boots on the wooden deck. This was it. No turning back.

Heavy banging on the door caused him to jump, despite anticipating the action.  
  
“Eli!” Cenric’s booming voice called out, “Get your scrawny ass up and unlock the goddamn door!”  
  
Obnoxious laughter from the posse followed, and Eli could hear Ayrin’s braying and Thalia’s rodent like giggling. He flinched. Christ almighty, he hated them!

One final breath, and he opened his eyes. Steeled and in control. He rolled back his shoulders and began his trek across the room, now as Eli, The Moving-Man, the cocky brains of their group who could find a way to obtain anything you needed for a price. Eyes hard and an eternal smirk on his lips.

He opened the door and without waiting for permission, Cenric’s massive frame bowled past him.

“Hey, ya little bastard! Bring on the booze!”

Eli moved aside and held the door as Thalia stepped through, followed by Jaak, Ayrin and Otto, who had to stoop to fit through the doorway, each of their Ghosts hovering beside them. They wasted no time in taking seats at a table, tracking mud all over the floor and draping their coats over the back of their chairs.

“Ya gonna clean that shit off the floor, are ya?” Eli gave them the side-eye.

“Why the fuck we’d do that? It’s your bar.” Jaak’s smile was all teeth, while the others scoffed.

Eli curled his lip, but they didn’t even notice; too caught up in themselves as Jaak produced a deck of cards for a game. So, Eli shut the door, sliding the bolt in place before dragging his finger along the digital lock. Sealing them in.

Then he paused. Taking a deep breath.

“What’s with the boom-boom stick, bro?”

He was brought back to the moment at Ayrin’s question which pointed out the rifle.

Eli turned with his signature smirk fixed in place, “Had some rats.”

“Some big fuckin’ rats.” Thalia snorted, taking up the cards Jaak tossed her.

Sauntering across the room, he came to stand at their table, hands behind his back, feeling the butt of the rifle brush against his palm...he began to lightly tap a shaking finger against the polished wood—he could do it now, it would be easy and quick.

“Where the fuck is the liquor? This is a bar ain’t it?” Cenric was loosening his tactical vest, his thick neck getting some relief, and from his pocket he threw a wallet full of glimmer on the table.

“Bring out the best!” He proclaimed, while Thalia propped a filthy shoe on the table as she leaned back in her chair; studying her card hand.

_Rude-ass mother fuckers!_

Eli smiled, “Well hold on now, you owe me somethin’, yeah? First-things-first and all that jazz.”

Ayrin snorted, Otto chuckled, and Thalia smirked behind her cards.

“Good ‘ol Eli. Always business, business, business.” Cenric’s smug grin was patronizing, “But, hey, ya know what? That’s why you’re the smart one, yeah? You’re a little man with a big brain. Where would we all be without ya?”

He paused to lock eyes with Eli, a silent message of nothing good. There was no love shared between them, and it was obvious. Cenric never severed eye contact, even as he reacheed into the pocket of his vest and produced a key-card, flicking it towards Eli who deftly caught it.

“It’s all there, in a storage container up at the pass. Don’t worry, it’s hidden nice and good.”

“You should’ve come with us, Eli.” Otto speaks for the first time, “It was just like old times.”

“Yeah, you pocket-sized creep.” Thalia cut-in, “The mud, the blood, the booms...”

“Most fun ya can have with your clothes on.” Jaak snickered.

Eli ignored them, looking down at the key card in his hand, and taking note of the number code etched into the back.

_One last job._

He dropped it into the pocket of his cargos, and when he looked back to them, his smile was all teeth, but his eyes...no. The smile was not reaching them.

Cenric was still watching him with a priggish air, but Eli gestured towards the glimmer on the table, “Stow that away, brotha. Drinks are on the house tonight!”

That got a cheer out of the five, and Eli crossed the room to step behind the bar.

The others grew loud, talking belligerently as they carried on their card game, and Eli listened as they recounted their violent misadventure to gather the resources he had requested of them. Insults thrown at the men they had killed to get through security, and criticizing each other’s performances in battle.

It was white noise. Mindless garble of creatures who hadn’t the presence of mind to create. They could only destroy everything they touched. This is why Eli had left them. Why he had walked away so long ago. He’d been a fool...thinking that he had found others like himself, drifters who sought freedom from the fate they had cruelly been bestowed.

How could he have been so wrong?

Stooping down behind the counter to retrieve the booze and glasses he would so generously treat them to, Eli’s eyes fell upon his Ghost. It’s blue iris gazing up at him from the shelf it perched on, waiting patiently for his signal. Eli paused, silently conveying that it wasn’t yet time---to keep waiting, and his Ghost understood, remaining in place as its Chosen rose to stand once more.

Cocky smile back in place, he plopped the goods onto the counter, “Y’all wanna drink, ya get your asses to the bar. I ain’t waitin’ on ya.”

The scrape of the chairs on the wooden floor, and the tramping of their feet echoed in the room.

Jaak’s eyes lit up when he spotted the bottles waiting for them, “Yeah buddy! You don’t pull the punches! Serve up that good shit!”

He plopped onto a stool, banging his fist on the counter as Eli twisted the spouts onto the bottles, pouring out a line for them all. They hooted and hollered their approval, and snatched up the glasses; throwing back their drinks.

No decorum. No toast. Just mannerless pigs with greedy appetites needing to be satisfied.

Thalia coughed and wiped her mouth on the back of her sleeve, “Goddamn that burns!” She coughed again, her eyes watering as she squinted at the label on the bottle, “Where the fuck did you get this shit?!”

Ayrin gasped dramatically, “We found somethin’ Thalia can’t swallow?!”

They all laughed. Except for the Lady-Hunter, who responded by punching Ayrin—hard. Hard enough that he flew back off his stool and landed in a heap; blood on his nose.

“Fuck you, cocksucker!” She screeched, which resulted in more uproarious laughter from the others. All of them doubled over in mirth. Eli leaned on the counter for support,

“Damn, sistah! Ain’t it the truth though?!” He laughed, “Hey Cocksucker,” now addressing Ayrin, “Don’t be bleedin’ on my floor!”

The Titan climbed to his feet and made his way back to his seat, holding his nose but chuckling nonetheless. They had all taken shots at each other before, often enough that they were used to it. There were never any hard feelings afterwards. Violence was an expression of affection as far as they were concerned.

They wasted no time demanding another round, and Eli obliged them, taking a few shots for himself.

“Shit. Ya drinkin’ too, brotha?” Ayrin asked, finally getting his nose to stop the blood flow, “We gonna have to step up our game tonight.”

Eli chuckled, and raised a glass in toast, “Ya think you can keep up? Be my guest!” He downed the glass in one gulp, before slamming it onto the counter. Swallowing hard, and scrunching his nose at the burn.

“That’ll put hair on your chest.” His voice now hoarse as he coughed.

“Fuck, man!” Cenric roared, “It’s too quiet in this damn place!”

“Hey, Ulli!” Jaak called out to his Ghost, “play somethin’, man!”

The Drone accommodated the request and set the atmosphere with a pulsing beat, roweling the group up more, and Eli injected himself into the middle of it. Because if there was one thing that he was really truly good at, it was playing whatever role he had been given, and right now, he was the low-life who had led them all to a prosperous lifestyle. He had been the one who had shown them how to survive. How to Drift.

But now...now he realized what a pack of monsters he had created. He had been lonely...so very lonely, and in them he had found what he believed to be kindred spirits, but they were no different than the Warlords. Drunk on their own power and immortality. They had forgotten what it meant to be human, to feel empathy, compassion, or to share in the fear of death.

To be Risen was to be eternal, and it prevented them from sympathizing with mortals—with the one’s they killed or sentenced to a fate worse than death. They’d forgotten.

Hours passed. Hours filled with shouting, laughter, physical challenges, hurled insults, and ridiculous games of stupidity. They drank and drank, and Eli made sure to keep the liquor flowing. For though Risen could burn the alcohol faster, they were still susceptible to its effects.

It’s what he needed. Wanted. Keep them happy, keep them weak.

As the night wore on, he could feel the time to act approaching. A burning in his chest and a sick feeling in his gut. His instinct for survival, of timing an attack. That’s how one drifts after all, they learn to read the room, to listen to their instincts, to that animal part of the soul.

"Y'know," said Cenric, the signature bulging vein in his forehead throbbing from the alcohol, "I've always thought you were a gutless sneak.” He laughed a booming sound, “I always thought you were a worthless little rat who couldn’t pull his own weight.”

He leaned forward on the counter, a huge grin on his face as he locked eyes with Eli.

“But after several drinks on your dime, I'm feeling pretty fond of ya...Drifter."

Everyone laughed and Eli smiled back. He was now perched on a stool behind the bar, feet kicked up on the counter. The rifle holstered on his back was heavy with promise. His heart was hammering in his chest, and he clenched his jaw tightly to hide his nerves. This was the crucial moment. He was ready for it, but it didn’t make it any less daunting.

He dramatically clutched at his heart and sighed, “Flatterer!”

“Ya can’t fight worth a damn for sure!” Thalia chimed in, and she pursed her lips pondering for a second, “Hell, I’ve never actually seen ya fight...”

The others nursed their drinks around their laughter.

She turned to Otto, “You ever see him fight?”

The giant of a man shook his head.

“Yeah,” It was Jaak’s turn to speak up, “Ya carry a gun, but I’ve never seen it leave your hip! You’s all talk!”

“But hell, if he ain’t brilliant at scheming! Come on guys! Give credit where credit’s due!” Ayrin came to his defense and Eli waved his hand playfully,

“Oh, stop! Ya gonna make me blush!”

Cenric went on, “Truth! You’re scrawny, useless in battle, and a damn irritatin’ little roach! But you’ve grown on me!” He raised his glass in a mock salute and started chugging.

Everyone laughed, and Eli laughed louder than them all.

Slapping his knee, “You’re a real smooth talker, brotha!” He laughed harder and tilted his head to the side, “I wonder....ya whisper those same sweet-nothin’s in the ear of Lord Rience when you lie in bed together?”

And then the whole room fell silent.

The smiles dropped from their faces, all of them turning pale. No one moved, no one breathed. Only Eli remained smiling, and he stared unblinking at Cenric, whose own eyes widened slightly as he processed the smaller man’s words.

The vein in Cenric's forehead began to twitch, “What the fuck did you just say to me?” His voice barely a whisper and growling.

Eli never blinked, and his smile grew wider. They stared each other down. Several seconds passing.

“Hey...Eli—" Jaak began, but Eli cut him off.

“Ya know why I opened a bar, Cenric?” His voice was steady.

The bulky Titan didn’t answer. His face was turning red, betraying the rage that was building up inside.

Eli continued, the smile still on his lips, “Bar’s a great place to settle disputes. Everybody comes here wantin’ to drop the mask.”

With that, silence fell upon them again. All eyes on Eli, including the Ghosts’, and a _Crackling!_ sound cut the air as Cenric squeezed his glass tight enough to cause a spider-web of cracks to run along it’s side.

The tension rose and to everyone watching, it was simply a question of when Cenric was going to reach across the bar and snap Eli like a twig. But Eli didn’t flinch. Didn’t blink, and it was more confusing how cool he was in the situation.

“Eli, man,” Jaak chuckled nervously in an attempt to diffuse the situation, “Listen, no one's rockin' the boat here. We shut Rience out a long time ago, just like you said."

Eli’s eyes shifted to Jaak so suddenly, it caused the freckled ginger to draw back.

"Funny. I seen you in that valley too. Jaaky-boy.”

The younger looking man’s face went flush.

“And Otto, and Ayrin, and Thalia…" Eli looked at them each in turn, watching as they fidgeted uncomfortably, like animals backed into a corner. Fight or flight modes flickering in their features. Clenching jaws, swallowing lumps in their throats, shaky eyes darting about; like children caught red-handed.

He shrugged and continued, "Guess my eyes are playin’ tricks on me. Huh?”

The shattering of glass as Cenric finally crushed it in his hand brought Eli’s eyes back to him. Shards of glass and a puddle of liquor spilled down the counter, and luckily, the ugly Titan’s hide was thick enough that the glass didn’t draw blood.

In an instant, he had pushed back his stool and leapt to his feet, looming over Eli.

"You have something to say, say it plain." The crack of his knuckles as he clenched his fists followed.

The intent to kill.

Slowly, Eli sat up and lowered his feet, leaning forward to rest his elbows upon the counter. Never breaking eye contact, never flinching or betraying his thoughts,

"Well, Cen—” he cleared his throat, “I have beady little eyes. So, maybe my eyesight ain’t the best. But this....” He tapped the side of his nose, "...this works just fine. And I smell a rat."

He sniffed the air deeply, "A whole nest of 'em, actually."

That vein of Cenric’s looked about to pop.

Then Eli stood and whipped his rifle around, asp-quick. Pointing it in Cenric’s face, as the Titan fell stunned. The smaller man’s speed had been almost impossible to follow, leaving the Titan caught in a delayed reaction.

“Oh shit!” Ayrin snapped, and the others jumped to their feet, stumbling backwards. Eyes wide, jaws hanging, they hadn’t even seen him move! The man moved too fast— _far_ too fast!

Eli’s smile was gone. Where cynical humor had once been, his eyes and face held resolution, and the glow of rage burning inside of him.

"And you know what we do with rats, don't ya, brotha."

No one moved.

“You tradin’ in people now, Cen?” Eli’s voice was low and filled with malice, “You sellin’ women and children?”

Cenric’s face burned with rage, “Fuck you, ya little bitch!” He spat.

That was that.

Eli pulled the trigger and in a splatter of blood, bone and brain tissue, Cenric’s head blew clear off his shoulders and all over the room. His body hit the ground with such a heavy thud, it shook the floor itself.

“Fuck! Oh fuck!” Jaak screamed.

They all shouted in confusion, stumbling back and reaching for their own weapons, but Eli was faster, he dropped to the floor and used the bar as a shield as they opened fire, letting out a loud whistle as he did so.

This was the signal, and his Ghost shot out from under the shelf. His little shell glowing as a surge built up inside him, he kept to the side as the bullets struck the wood around him, and with a massive shriek of electricity there was a pulse of light that enveloped the entire room.

Eli could feel the pressure of it, as though something massive had slammed into his chest, and for a moment it knocked the wind out of him. He coughed and slammed his back against the bar to snap himself out of it.

The shooting stopped, and he heard the others yelp in pain as their bodies hit the floor hard, followed by the collective clank of metal on wood. He watched his Ghost reassemble its own shell and quickly retreat to an open vent in the floor that Eli had set-up for him earlier. Hiding itself away once again to avoid an attack.

The little drone followed instructions perfectly, and Eli appreciated this aspect of its nature.

He slid across the floor and peered around the counter, seeing the now dark and empty shells of the Ghosts lying in a heap on the floor. It had worked!

The others coughed and groaned as they struggled to their feet, but Eli was already composed, and he leapt up, putting a bullet into Ayrin. The Titan had a quick enough reflex though, and rolled to the side so the bullet hit his arm instead of his head. The armor preventing penetration.

In a split second, he whipped his own rifle around and fired several shots at Eli, who fell back behind the bar before rapid footsteps on the wood alerted him to an approach—then he heard boots land upon the counter.

Whipping his head up, he saw Thalia come leaping down at him with her signature blade in hand— curved and made for sticking pigs. Her face contorted in a vicious expression as she shrieked, and came down upon him.

He dropped the rifle and caught her wrist before she could land the killing blow, heaving her forward head first into the wall. She slammed into the wood hard, smashing and splintering it as bottles and glasses crashed all around her.

She scrambled onto all fours like a spitting cat, and made a lunge for him, but Eli held the upper hand in regards to speed and strength. She may have been a Hunter, and a damn good one at that, but what she didn’t know—what none of them knew, was just how quick and agile Eli could be.

He ducked to one side, balancing on his hands as he swung his leg to connect with the side of her face. The crunch of bone breaking beneath his boot and the splatter of blood from her nose and mouth caused her to choke and fall to the side, and Eli quickly grabbed her own knife, slamming it deep into her ear.

Her body went rigid, eyes bulging, as Eli leaned in:

“Ya see me fight now, doncha, honey?” He hissed in her face, and watched as the light fled from her eyes; fading into an empty nothingness. She dropped to the floor. Gone.

_Stupid whore!_

He ripped the knife out of her and leapt onto the counter. Two Titans and a Hunter left. Take the Hunter first. Titans can’t shoot worth shit, but Ayrin could still hit him at this range.

Eli flipped the blade around in his hand and with one smooth swing, flung it right into Ayrin’s own as he raised his rifle, causing the Titan to scream and drop his weapon. Even with all that armor they loved to layer, Titan’s hands were still susceptible. This bought Eli time, Otto was a swordsman who relied on close range, so Jaak— the baby-boy Hunter, would have to go next.

The kid in question raised his hand cannon and fired several rounds in such rapid succession, it sounded like a single shot. But Eli had already rolled to the side as the bullets struck in a row at his heels, and all but flew off the counter; sliding across the floor on his side to meet Jaak head-on.

Swiping his feet out from under him, the kid fell to the floor, knocking the wind out of him with a _yelp!_

Rolling up to stand with an almost inhuman motion of flexibility, Eli stomped his boot down, intending to crush the red-head’s face deep into the wood, but the Hunter caught his ankle and flung him to the side, sending Eli crashing into a table. He hit the ground, hearing the click of a rifle going hot, and realized Ayrin had recovered enough to initiate an attack.

“Get the fuck outta the way, Jaak!” the Titan shouted, and the kid shuffled to the side quickly.

Eli rolled to his knees, just in time to flip the upended table in front of him to create a makeshift shield as Ayrin open fired. The wood wouldn’t repel bullets, and sure enough, a couple struck Eli in the shoulder and leg. He hissed in pain, quickly trying to calculate his next move. He needed better cover, and he was still too close to Jaak. The Hunter could easily draw his field knife and end it with one good throw.

The room’s furnace was approximately five meters to the left, and it would provide better coverage while he recentered himself—he’d have to plow through Jaak though.

Well, time for him to give a demonstration of just how wrong their notions of _“class”_ were.

He crouched, bracing himself for the lift he needed to execute his next attack, and with one mighty press off his heels, he sprinted to the left, slamming into Jaak with a shoulder charge that sent the kid flying across the room; crumbling in a heap against the wall. The window above him shattering, and glass fell all around his limp form.

“HOLY SHIT! HE COULD DO THAT?!” Ayrin screamed, “HOW THE HELL COULD HE DO THAT?!”

Eli slid to a stop behind the furnace. Panting for breath as he took a moment to catch himself.

The pain from the bullets surged once more. Jaak was down. Ayrin still had his rifle, Otto would most likely resort to a charge, and Eli knew that he couldn’t take the blow. They’d kill him, rob him and take off.

_No!_

He couldn’t let that happen! He couldn’t let them escape! Not after what they had done! Those people...all those people they had hurt. Women, kids— how could anyone be so heartless?! So evil?!

Bullets struck the furnace.

“Fuck you, Eli!” Ayrin shouted, shooting another round to emphasize his belief that he had the upper hand.

“Hiding like the rat you are,” Otto’s deep voice—eternally calm, “You’re so self-righteous, aren’t you?”

His massive footsteps slowly thudded against the floor as he came closer, “You’re the worst of us all. All those years we worked together, you just stood by and watched. Neutrality is the greatest sin.”

Eli leaned against the wall, shutting his eyes, trying to steady his breath. An ache deep in his chest beginning to throb something awful—

_I know that...I know it’s true..._

“And never forget,” Otto was closer now, “Everything was always _your_ idea. How to Drift 101, remember? First rule, ‘ _survive no matter what it takes’_.”

_Christ! Shut-up! Just shut your fucking mouth!_

Anger was swelling inside of him, pain and unbearable shame—for the truth always hurt, and no matter how hard he tried, how much he lied to himself...it didn’t change anything.

But...he could at least try and make it right.

A rattling inside of his head. His breath growing ragged.

_Little hands that clutched his own, a tiny body shaking in his arms. Wide soulful eyes that bore into his, begging, pleading for an answer._

_“Why?”_

Stop! STOP IT!

_Little Yu...sweet, little Yu._

He had promised that he would keep her safe—had told her that everything was going to be alright....but it wasn’t. It never would be alright. He had lied.

His precious little girl. Something so bright and innocent. Eyes filled with wonder and the possibility of a future where she would do great things.

_“Uncle...I can’t feel anything.”_

_The light faded._

Then Eli snapped.

Light burning up inside of him, power enveloping his form, until he couldn’t feel the pain of the bullets anymore. A crackle, a hiss, that sweet and spicy smell of magic filled the room—and then the floor began to shake.

Windows rattling.

A burst of flames, and he shot to his feet. Fire all around him.

Otto stood with sword in hand, while Ayrin stood back with rifle raised, and when they caught sight of him, of the image that stood before them—all the bravado fell from their forms.

“Oh shit...” Otto mumbled.

And when Eli’s feet left the floor to levitate, Ayrin screamed,

“HE’S A FUCKING WARLOCK!”

All hell broke loose.

Chairs, tables, bottles, and glasses rose into the air and swirled about the room, smashing into each other and into the men as they tried to defend themselves. They struggled to brace for an offensive attack, but Eli wouldn’t give them the opportunity.

His hands shook, light building in his palms that burned both hot and cold, and when Ayrin finally steadied himself to take a shot, Eli flung a blast of light into the man’s chest, practically obliterating him where he stood. What was left collapsed onto the floor in a bloody heap, and smoldered with a terrible smell of cooked flesh.

With the built attack now discharged, Otto seized his moment and charged forward, sword swinging through the air to take Eli’s head—but the newly discovered Warlock was still ever so much faster. That gift of agility he had worked so hard for gave him the edge, and he slipped under the arc of the blade, smoothly rounding behind Otto where he slammed his elbow into the side of his neck; feeling the muscles popping and stretching under the skin.

The force of the blow threw Otto off balance, but he was resilient enough to correct himself, and his slick blade twirled about to come at Eli in a pure uppercut that would disembowel.

Eli pivoted around and caught the Titan’s arm mid swing, twisting it the wrong way so that it popped before sending his fist straight into Otto’s face with such force, the man’s jaw was most certainly broken.

The Warlock broke the Titan’s grip on the sword, loosening it just enough that he was able to flip it around, and with one final thrust, shoved the blade straight up into the man’s chin and out the top of his head.

It happened so fast, the massive warrior didn’t have time to cry out. His body stiffened then shuddered and his eyes bore into Eli’s. Not dead, not yet, but he was fading fast.

Blood poured down his face, a gurgling in his throat as he began to choke.

But the rage still pulsed inside of Eli, still clenched his heart, and it wasn’t enough that he had delivered the killing blow to the massive man before him.

_No...not enough._

So he leaned in closer, wanting to be the last thing Otto ever saw in this pathetic, disgusting life.

“I believe I told ya lesson two of how to Drift, yeah?” Eli whispered, “ _’Always remember, everyone is out to get ya.’_ But I don’t think I taught ya lesson three.” He leaned in as close as he could get

“Here it is— _'Remember...there will always be someone out there better than you.’_ ”  
  
Otto’s eyes fell out of focus, and when Eli let go of him, the hulk of a man was dead before he even hit the floor.

It was over. He had done it.

He stood amidst the carnage he had created and let the adrenaline drain from his body. Breathing deeply, fighting the oncoming shakes.

_I did it...it’s over. It’s over...oh...fuck..._

He breathed deeply, shoulders finally giving in to the shock as they began to tremble—and then a shuddering gasp of breath broke the silence.

Nearly jumping in his skin, Eli turned to see Jaak, still alive, the kid’s foot twitching as he moaned in horrendous pain. His back was clearly broken, and Eli stared in a near stupor. He was dying slowly, and for a moment Eli wondered if he should allow him to suffer; give the little pig what he deserved. But he couldn’t stand the death rattles, they were annoying and frankly, disturbing.

So, slowly, he crossed to him, coming to stand beside his broken body and nearly shattered face.

He didn’t feel sorry. He didn’t feel anything at all for the boy that lay at his feet.  
  
He reached down and took Jaak’s hand cannon from his limp fingers, and with one echoing shot through the skull—he ended it.

Now it was truly over.

A shaking in his hands, and he dropped the gun with a clack, before slowly turning to walk back to the bar.

The place was a mess. Tables and chairs smashed and toppled, bullet holes in the counter and walls, a couple windows shattered, and blood and guts staining everything. It would take a lot of time and money to repair, and Eli groaned as he quickly calculated the exact cost he’d be out in his head. Much more than when Lady Efrideet had shot up the place.

This time though, it was all his fault...but worth it.

_Was it? Truly?_

He stepped behind the counter and dragged out a bottle of whiskey and a glass from a shelf that hadn’t been destroyed. Hands shaking once again as he poured, his mind a whirlwind of various thoughts clashing with the emotions that were churning in his gut, and all the while, he found it strange how he instantly retreated to a more professional level of thinking—

It was time to move on, he’d spent too long in this place, and Cenric and the crew were proof of how he couldn’t afford to get comfortable. He’d fix it up, sell it, and recuperate the loss. Yeah. Easy.

His hands shook harder as he raised the glass to his lips, trying to down the drink quickly, but he choked and spit some of the liquid onto his chin, dripping down his neck as he coughed. He wiped at his mouth, and flinched at the sudden pain in his shoulder, reminding him that he still had a bullet in there—as well as in his leg.

The adrenaline of battle was now gone. Exhaustion crashing down on him, and his body trembled harder, breath hitching, and within it all—he felt the sting of tears forming in his eyes.

He was gonna throw up.

A sniff, a hiccup in his chest, and the moisture began to fall to his cheeks. Stray drops that managed to escape. He sank to the floor, back against the shelves and legs stretched out in front of him to alleviate some of the pain. His leg was bleeding badly, he needed to fix it quick, and with this focus shifting to the front of his mind, he began to channel some of his light to the area.

But...something didn’t feel right. He simply felt....drained, and he realized he didn’t have enough light left to heal himself. Not after everything he had just unleashed.

He gave up, tilting his head back and closing his eyes as he tried to relax. They’d be coming any moment now—the Iron Lords. There’s no way they hadn’t heard the gunfire, and the other shop owners in the area were sure to have woken and sent word that a fire fight had broken out at The End Of The World.

Already he could hear voices outside. Now that the fighting had stopped, they had been brave enough to exit their homes and take a peek at what happened. Doubtless they all thought he was dead. They didn’t know he was Risen, they didn’t know the truth about Eli. He was just the sleazy bartender in town.

Oh, how he wished that it were true. That he could be simply that.

He took a deep breath and tried to slip away. Allowing the throbbing pain in his leg and shoulder to chase away all other thoughts. He was tired. So very tired. So hungry, and so very cold. No...no wait...he felt warm now..

_Why?_

His eyes shot open, and he looked down to see his Ghost channeling its own light into the wounds upon his body.

It took just a second, and like a snap shot on a camera, the holes in his leg and shoulder were no more. He was healed.

The Ghost met his eyes, a silent message passing between them, an acknowledgment of comradery that they had worked together— that they had succeeded in their plan, and Eli couldn’t deny that he never could’ve done it without his Ghost.

But he would never admit that out loud.

From outside he heard the dull roar of Pikes over the voices of the crowd, and he knew the Iron Lords had arrived. His Ghost didn’t need to be told, it knew to retreat to the vent and remain hidden until the situation had passed. He watched it disappear and closed his eyes once again. He wouldn’t get up, they could come to him and ask what happened. He didn’t give a damn.

_Arrogant pricks. All of them._

The door burst open and he heard heavy boots enter the place.

“Holy hell.” A woman’s voice spoke, and he recognized it as belonging to Lady Efrideet.

Of course she’d be the first one down the mountain, and he couldn’t help but smirk. He was definitely not someone she gave a crap about, and yet, here she was being nosy.

He listened to their footsteps. It sounded like there were two of them, and one approached the bar.

“Well, shit. You’re still alive?”

He opened his eyes to see the Lady herself looking down at him from the other side of the counter, and he allowed a cocky smile to creep across his lips—becoming someone new. Becoming Wu Ming; the cowardly bartender she loathed.

“My Lady has come to rescue me.” He squeaked out, his voice was hoarse and still shaky.

“Ugh,” she scoffed, “So what the hell happened this time?”

He grinned with all his teeth, head tilted back as he looked at her upside down, “Well, they came in demanding drinks, I let them in, they got drunk, started fighting and I was scared.”

“Mmhmm.” She didn’t sound convinced, “What were they fighting about?”

He sighed, “Apparently, one of them had been sneaking behind the other’s backs and selling information to Lord Rience. An argument broke out and they drew on each other.” He shrugged, “I dunno what else to tell ya.”

“You ran and hid?”

“Course I did! I don’t wanna die!” He scrunched his nose at her, brows furrowed.

She didn’t answer, just watched him silently, and a sudden thought struck Eli. Something that made his blood start to run cold:

Did she know he was Risen? Had Felwinter told the others?

_Shit...what if he had?_

He liked to think that Felwinter was a enough of a man of honor not to divulge the secrets of others, and though Eli was pretty convinced he had respected his wishes to remain unknown, there was always that slim chance. It wasn’t like Felwinter had any care for him. No one did. But still...

He watched as Lady Efrideet reached for the whiskey bottle he had left upon the counter, lifted her helm and took a swig. She then lowered the bottle down to him, “You look like shit.”

He accepted it and took a swig as well, “Thanks. Ya sayin’ I usually don’t?” His smile was coy.

“You’re a weird little creep, and nothing’s gonna change that.”

“But still a good kisser, yeah?” he winked.

She narrowed her eyes, “You sure are cocky. Don’t flatter yourself.”

They were interrupted by a man’s voice speaking from the center of the room, “Their Ghosts are dead. What happened?”

Lord Saladin. So, he had come too?

Efrideet looked back towards Titan, “You sure they’re dead?” she asked.

“They’re completely dark.”

The woman’s attention returned to Eli, “What happened with that?”

He shook his head, “Beats the hell outta me. One of ‘em had their Ghost do this weird.... _thing_ , like a power charge. It hit the other Ghosts and they all just....fell outta the air.” He waved his hands to emphasize, “Then one of ‘em shot that Ghost and that was that.”

She didn’t respond, just watched him, and once again, Eli worried the Iron Lords knew he wasn’t what he appeared to be.

A moment passed.

“Get some of the folk in here to help move the bodies.” She spoke to Saladin whose footsteps disappeared out the door.

Eli could hear his voice call out for assistance and the sound of multiple footsteps entering the bar. He listened as the bodies of his former crew were unceremoniously dragged outside, and furniture was moved to clear the way.

His gaze returned to Efrideet, and with a big sigh, he hoisted himself to stand; turning to face her.

“Well, looks like ya Iron Lords got things well in hand. I’m goin’ to my room now. Lock up when you’re done.”

She glared at him, “We’re not cleaning up your mess.”

“It ain’t my mess, mi’lady. It’s yours. You Risen like to fuck up everything ya touch. They’re yours. I’m just a mere mortal tryin’ to make an honest livin’”

This was the test. If she called him out, he would have to answer for far more than he wanted. In fact, the Iron Lords could turn around and contain him.

She stood up straight and he waited for her to say something—anything— but instead, she turned on her heel and followed the men dragging the remains of Ayrin out the door.

“Thanks for the concern, my darlin’!” He called out to her, and before Efrideet stepped through the door, she looked over her shoulder.

“I’m not your “ _darlin_ ’”, and you watch yourself, creep.”

“Aw! Ya _do_ care!” He called back, hand dramatically at his heart.

She stopped in the doorway, back towards him, “You’re spineless and useless. No woman would _ever_ care for you.”

Then she left.

Eli leaned upon the counter, smirking still in place as his eye caught Lord Saladin’s, who eyed him back suspiciously.

“How ya livin’ Big Guy?” Eli winked, which elicited a growl from the Iron Lord.

Then, without further word, the Titan turned and followed his comrade.

The bodies gone, the Ghosts taken after them, but the carnage and debris remained. That was something he’d be left to clean himself. Something that made his stomach churn once more.

He listened as the voices of the people began to disperse, and the roar of the Pikes’ engines faded as the Iron Lords sped away.

He was alone again—well...not quite. His Ghost emerged from his hiding place and fluttered to his side.

“Eli, you okay?” The Ghost’s voice was gentle...careful.

“Don’t call me that!” The man snapped, “That’s not my name— I don’t have a name!”

His eyes were steel, his face stone as he stared at the wreckage that lay before them. Eyes not truly seeing it, for he was retreating into his own head. This was the harsh reality, the truth that hurt so very much—

That he was all alone in the world once again.

**

He didn’t go to his room like he said. Instead, he spent the rest of the night and early hours of the morning, cleaning the place. Washing away the blood and brain matter, sweeping up glass and taking out the broken furniture for firewood. He had fewer tables and chairs available now, but it really didn’t matter.

Once everything was repaired, he was out of there. His Ghost helped, being careful to stay out of sight from any passerby, and once Eli boarded up the broken windows it was a smooth operation for the little light to clear things out.The thing that pissed Eli off the most was how much liquor he had to replenish from his backroom stock. He had paid good money for quality, and now, half of it was gone. But the key card still sat in his pocket, and if instructions had been followed, he should have enough resources in that container to tie him over.

He’d go out later and collect. For now, he just needed things cleaned— _he_ needed to get clean. He was covered in blood.

So, hours later, Eli stood in the shower, leaning against the brick wall as the water rained down upon him, and he watched the reddened water swirl down the drain...of blood that wasn’t his own.

The water and steam was sweltering, but he didn’t truly care nor even notice. Fire and heat was part of who he was now, whether he liked it or not. That curse of witchcraft he’d been given was always swirling around inside him.

A freak of nature.

His legs were shaking, he was so exhausted! He just wanted to lie down...so he did.

Sinking to the floor of the shower to lay upon the concrete, he curled in on himself, and secretly, began to hope that he would drown.

BUT—his Ghost was hovering in the doorway of the washroom, watching him. He knew it wouldn’t be so kind as to let him die in peace.

“Can ya go away? Give me some privacy?” He growled.

A little chitter from his Ghost as it shifted about in its shell, a gesture Eli had come to associate with discomfort. Ghosts may not have faces or forms, but their gestures and noises gave away a lot in regards to how they were feeling. He scoffed—could they even truly feel?

“You’re not going to do anything stupid are you?” His Ghost spoke, and Eli snorted into the water gathered under his cheek.

“Like what? Drown myself? Slit my wrists?”

Silence.

“Stop watchin’ me all the time, I’m fine!” He continued.

“I don’t trust you.” His Ghost was firm in its proclamation, and Eli chuckled.

“Yeah? I don’t trust ya either. Seriously, leave me alone or I’ll _give_ ya somethin’ to watch!” He threatened.

An exasperated sigh from his Ghost, “This is exactly what I’m talking about!”

“Whaaaaat?” Eli taunted, a chuckle in his throat, “Ya think I’ll put on a show by bashin’ my brains out? How ‘bout I just jack-off in front of ya? That’ll teach ya to leave me alone!”

His Ghost groaned in disgust, “Must you always be so crass?!”

Eli laughed, suddenly in a much better mood, and he slowly climbed to his feet, grabbing the container of soap he kept on the ledge of the small fogged window. Popping it open, his senses were struck with the smell of earth—that woodsy smell of Eaton....of Huong, and the memory of her kindness and love.

He scrubbed at his skin and hair. Allowing the smell to overtake him, to drown out everything else, as he slipped into memories:

_Huong cooking, making her own noodles from scratch while he helped slice the vegetables in her small kitchen. Her bright laugh, slapping his arm when he cracked a joke._

_Judson and him rolling aromatic cigarettes on his back porch, watching the sunset over the rice paddies as they had a smoke; talking about nothing of consequence._

_Watching Dan-Dan’s mutt jump the fence and trample through Bianh’s herb garden. The two cantankerous old men beginning a shouting match that could be heard in all directions._

_Little Yu showing him the picture book she was making, based on a story he had told her—about a cat that had sailed the seas in a shoe-box._

What once was...what never will be again.

And so, he rinsed the soap from his hair and allowed the water to hide the tears that were pouring down his face.

**

He laid on his futon, staring up at the rafters. Outside the wind was blowing down from the mountain, whistling as it passed by, while the voices of the townspeople could be heard going about their own work.  
  
He had wrapped himself in a blanket, tight enough that it was technically a cocoon, and had resigned himself to just...lying there. Like a bump on a log.

The sun had moved across the sky, and from the angle it was shining through his window, he could tell it was late in the afternoon. He hadn’t slept at all. Exhaustion painting him, but his mind refusing to allow him rest. It was torture, plain and simple, and Eli felt the itch of irritation spreading throughout his body.

His Ghost floated above him, slipping into his line of vision, and Eli blinked to bring its blue eye into focus.

“Are you just going to lie there for the rest of the day?” He asked.

No answer. Eli just frowned, locking his gaze with an impassive expression.

“So,” the Ghost sighed, “You’re _really_ just going to stay in bed and feel sorry for yourself, huh? That’s pretty pathetic.”

“You’re pretty pathetic.” Eli mumbled, trying to burrow a little deeper into his wrap, hiding the lower half of his face within the blanket.

An exasperated sigh, a tsk from his Ghost, “You need to get up and open the bar.”

“No I don’t.” A childish grumble from a full grown man.

“Yes, you do! You said you wanted to get out of here, but you can’t do that unless you get the money to fix the place! Stealing and hustling isn’t the best thing to be doing in Wolf territory, so you need to do it the _honest way_! Now—” The Ghost swooped down and slammed his shell into the back of Eli’s head, who whined in pain and protest, “Get your sorry ass up and open the bar!”

The Ghost’s voice was firm, like a parent scolding a child, and it was clear the drone was fed up with its Chosen’s immaturity.

BUT—

“Shudduuuuppppp.....” Was the response, and he curled in on himself all the more.

Another sigh from the Ghost, and instead of pressing the issue, he fluttered over to the window to gaze outside at the people passing by, watching the glow of the sun reflecting off the snow. It was as though last night had never happened. A harsh world breeds harsh people, and they were survivors, just like that man upon the floor who lay in a bubble of his own self-loathing and pity.

“You’ve killed before.” The Ghost’s voice was softer this time, far more compassionate, “Both alien and human alike. So, why is this bothering you so much?”

A moment of silence passed. Eli said nothing, remaining motionless in the security of his blanket.

So, his Ghost continued, “That crew of yours...you hated them anyways. They were rotten to their cores, no different than the Warlords.”

“I know that.” Eli’s voice croaked, “I know all‘a that.”

He took a deep breath before continuing, “But that don’t mean I’m incapable of feeling lousy afterwards! I’m still a person! I’m still a human being, despite what you’ve done to me!”

The Ghost whipped around, bewilderment in his visage, “What _I’ve_ done?!”

“Yeah! _YOU_ put this.... _fire_ inside of me! _You_ made it so I’m starvin’ all the time! _You_ made me into a... _FREAK!_ ”

“I’m just the messenger! You were chosen! You are special!” The Ghost glared.

The man on the floor scoffed, “If I’m so special, why are there so many like me?! HUH?!” His eyes glaring out from the folds of the blanket, “How does that make me special?! You’re so full of shit!”

Silence fell between them, and the little light allowed the his shell to droop; expressing his fatigue and disappointment. It never ended...it was always the same.

“You don’t understand.” Its voice was gentle and sad, “You’ve never understood...”

“Well, you’re terrible at explain’ it!”

The Ghost didn’t respond. Instead, it turned back towards the window to look at the landscape of snowcapped mountains and evergreens frosted in buttercream. It was very lovely, and there was something about the little village that sat in the heart of it that gave a such a sensation of awe—something so promising.

“Get away from the window, would’ya?! Someone’ll see ya!”

The Ghost sighed, but acquiesced. Fluttering back to his Chosen One. Back to the original topic at hand—

“You know, the Pilgrim Guard are here. They arrived this morning.” The Ghost tried to add a bit of enthusiasm to his tone.  
  
“Yeah, and?”

“ _And_ —that means you need to open the bar. They’ll want to drink and relax, and will definitely pay good money.”  
  
Eli didn’t respond.

“You _NEED_ the money! Let them in, entertain them for a few hours and collect on the glimmer.”

The Ghost had spoken his peace, and fluttered down to land on the pillow beside Eli’s head. Nesting while he waited for the man to make a decision.

A moment passed in silence. Then two. Then three. Then Eli let out the deepest groan, and with one sluggish roll after another, he unfurled himself from the blanket like a rug. His Ghost remained on the pillow and offered the man the machine-like equivalent of an eye roll.

“Fucking Titans...” Eli growled as he stood, hunched over and dragging his feet to the wardrobe to get dressed.

“Be nice now.” The Ghost warned, as it shut its eye off, settling into the plush of the pillow beneath it.

“Bite me, Dumbass!”

The Ghost didn’t dignify that with an answer, opting instead for a nap. He was supposed to stay out of sight anyway, so Eli couldn’t say a word to him; he was fine with that.

**

Sure enough, after Eli opened the bar, it was packed. Despite the incident that took place in the night, and the lack of adequate furniture, people still crowded into The End Of The World. Not just members of the Pilgrim Guard, but many of the townspeople as well. This wasn’t unusual. Once again, it was the idea of safety in numbers, and with the Pilgrim Guard and Wolves being more active in town, sticking close to where ever they were was a smart tactic; especially when the rumor had been circulating that it was Lord Rience’s men who had been in the firefight last night.

Eli _—“Wu Ming”_ to the townsfolk—flawlessly kept the place running like a well-oiled machine.

He didn’t need help. He had the skills and the talent to turn out drinks and food quickly, and it’s what made him and his business so popular. Everyone loved Wu Ming’s place.

Apparently, he was impressing the Pilgrim Guard too, and just as his Ghost had said, turning on the charm and giving them the best of everything produced good tips. In a sense, it was hustling. Which was more of his comfort zone. He had a way with casual conversation that could make anyone feel relaxed.

Music was blaring, voices were laughing and shouting to be heard, it was almost surreal; seeing as how the place had just been the scene of a massacre hours earlier. But no one said anything, and no one looked at him strangely.

He was clearing off the bar, tossing out empty bottles and depositing used glasses into a bin to take to the back for cleaning, when the door swung open. A group entered, speaking and laughing loudly and Eli glanced up to see more Titans. More of the Pilgrim Guard.

_Fan-freakin-tastic._

He was so sick of them all. He hated Risen, hated the Iron Lords, hated the Warlords, and most especially—he _HATED_ Titans. Such brainless bottom-feeders so easily corruptible. They’re desire for control would ultimately be their downfall, and Eli swore he would have front row seats when it happened. Laughing all the while.  
 _  
What a glorious day when it comes!_

He turned to the back shelves, depositing the bin of dirty dishes he’d have to clean later, and in this moment of semi privacy, he took a moment to refocus himself back into the role of Wu Ming. Fatigue was starting to catch up, and he took a deep calming breath. In through the nose, out through the mouth.  
  
Trying to think of nothing but the job at hand. The role of the charming bartender, the helpless mortal who wasn’t a threat to anyone.

_Focus. Focus._  
  
But then— a woman laughed, and he froze. It was bright and full of warmth, and he knew he had heard it before.

A leap in his chest, a flutter in his stomach, and his whole body stiffened.

_No...no...it can’t be!_

Swallowing down the anxiety, steeling himself, he began to slowly turn around—

_It couldn’t possibly..._

A moment in time that moved so slowly—

And then—

There _she_ was.

And she was more beautiful than he remembered. 

Her glowing eyes peered out from beneath a hood of wolf’s fur, protecting her from the cold outside, and he could see the stardust move across her skin; that strange element of hers. She lowered the hood of her coat, curls still cut into that mohawk he had admired on her so long ago.

He never thought he’d see her again. Just a fleeting moment in time that created a cherished memory. But here she was! And he couldn’t move.

She laughed again at something one of her comrades said as they walked further into the bar. Bright, cheerful and charming, and Eli forgot to breathe as he watched her come closer.

She hadn’t noticed him yet, and he wondered if she would even recognize him. It had been a rather long time, more than likely she had forgotten all about him, and deep down, in an unfortunate realization-- he thought it was probably for the best.

He was a drifter, and anonymity gave him advantages.

But when she turned towards the counter where he stood, her eyes locked upon his own, he watched as surprise slowly spread across her features. She had stopped. Eyes growing wide. Then, ever so slowly, she smiled—that huge smile of hers, and shouted:

“ELI?!”

His heart was hammering in his chest, and her smile was infectious.

“Hey! Orin!” He called out, and she left her group to dash to the counter, leaning her elbows on it as she beamed at him with a radiance that took his breath away.

“HI! I never would’ve expected to see you here! Wow! How are you?!” She was genuinely excited, and he could tell it wasn’t an act.

She was _exactly_ as he remembered; overly friendly and eager to talk.

“Can’t complain,” he chuckled, “How ya livin’, sistah?”

She scrunched her nose, “Stressed, but I cope just fine.”

He chuckled harder, that blunt honesty he had found so refreshing was still there.

“I gotta say, “ she looked him up and down, “You look...exactly the same!”

_Oh shit!_

He forgot—she didn’t know he was Risen! And it had been quite a while since they last saw each other.

He smirked and shrugged, “What can I say? I age well. Got good genes.”

She looked him up and down again, eyebrow cocked, “Yeah you do!”

He had to deflect, he didn’t want her thinking into it and blowing his cover. Unlike most Titans, she was clever and very perceptive, he remembered that about her.

“Ya checkin’ me out, darlin’?” He winked.

Her eyes widened in response, and she gasped, “Yes! But I thought I was being respectful!”

He laughed as she winked back at him, her smile curling coyly. She was fun—knew how to take a joke and throw one right back!

_Such a woman!_

He felt himself growing lighter around her. He’d be walking on air soon—but hopefully not _literally_. Sometimes his magic could be unpredictable, and the last thing he needed was losing control of his craft.

“So, what’re you doing way out here?! What happened to the other place? Did something happen?”

She never could ask just one question, she had to ask several at a time.

He shrugged, deciding to downplay, “Well, things were gettin’ pretty sketchy out in the valley, so I cleared out.”

“Mmm” She nodded, expression turning serious, “I heard about several attacks in the area. The town was hit pretty hard. It’s so sad.”

Then her eyes brightened once more, “But I’m so glad you’re alright!”

He felt a tremor run through him as he realized just how sincere she was. It made him feel....something he had never felt before, and if he had, he had forgotten it in his past life. The life before he was ripped from his grave. It made his face burn.

“It’s good to see you’re still kickin’ too, hun.”

She let out a sigh and slumped forward on the counter, a slight pout forming on her lips.

“Kicking and screaming.” she murmured.

He frowned, “Things not well in the Guard?”

Her eyes darted back up to his and she shook her head vigorously.

“No, that’s not it! I love the Guard! I get to help so many people!” She trailed off, looking down at her hands, “It’s just that...I feel like we could be doing more. But whenever I bring something up...”

She glanced over her shoulder at the other Guardsman before leaning back in towards Eli.

“Actually, forget I said anything.”

Eli furrowed his brows, confused at her abrupt change in mood, “Huh?”

He really wanted to know what was bothering her, he wanted her to feel free to talk to him, but Orin began to chew on her lip and shake her head.

“Just...just never mind.”

He paused, watching her fidget. She was clearly annoyed by something, but was worried she’d be overheard, and Eli sighed internally; wishing everyone would just clear out and leave the two of them to their reunion.

"Well,” he leaned on the counter as well, “I’m here whenever you wanna vent, darlin’”

That got a shy smile out of her, and he felt his heart quicken again, he smiled back, their eye contact prolonged. Then without warning, she sat up quickly, her entire demeanor changing as she playfully slapped the counter.

“SO! What the hell happened here?” She looked around the room and he could tell she was taking in the damage, “Did a storm hit or something?”

He had hoped he would’ve gone the night without having to discuss the incident with anyone, but he hadn’t anticipated Orin making a come-back in his life. Especially today of all days. Orin was _“little-miss twenty-questions”_ , and there was no such thing as small talk in her world. Oh no, Orin had to converse about anything and everything, and yet, she never imposed or snooped.

Her honesty and openness was endearing. Cute even.

“Ah, no.” He chuckled and stood up straighter, leaning slightly back to crack his spine, “Some Risen came in last night and a fight broke out.”

She gasped, and rounded on him, “That was your place?”

So the rumor mill had already fed the Pilgrim Guard?

_Oh, great._

“Ya heard?” He scoffed, giving her a slight roll of his eyes.

“Everyone’s talking about it. I heard it was Lord Rience’s men. True?”

He hated people. Why couldn’t they just mind their own fucking business?

But he wouldn’t be mad at Orin. He _couldn’t_ be mad at her. she was just asking out of curious innocence, and honestly, any reason to speak to her was welcomed.

“Yeah. They got drunk and started accusin’ each other of backstabbin’. Fight broke out, and they killed their own ghosts before each other.”

She gasped, completely jarred by his explanation, and he prepared himself for a full on interrogation.

“Are you ok?” Her voice was soft and uneasy, and he froze; blinking in bewilderment, as she fixed him with the most soulful gaze.

_Wait...what is she—?_

He wasn’t sure he could believe it. She didn’t ask about the fight, or the ones involved. She didn’t ask about the politics of what unfolded, or if the Iron Lords had become involved. No— she was just worried about _him._ He looked into her eyes and saw the distress, the genuine concern for his wellbeing, and he practically melted into the floor. She barely knew him! It had been so long since they last spoke, and yet, she wanted to know that he was okay.

He didn’t understand how a Risen could be so... _good_. So pure!

But Orin was.

_She’s as bright as the sun. Warm like Eaton. Like Yu. Like Huong._

He couldn’t help himself, he couldn’t resist her at all—and so he smiled at her. A smile that reached his eyes, as he whispered, “I’m fine, darlin’.”

She let out a breath, one of relief, and smiled back. A comfortable silence passing between them, and Eli felt the weight of everything lift away. Once again, just like all those years ago in the first bar he owned—when they had danced together—nothing in the entire universe existed... except the two of them.

“Hey, Orin! You order anything yet?”

Their moment was interrupted by another female Guardsman who came to lean against the counter beside Orin. She was a younger girl, blonde. Average. No, that wasn’t true—she was very pretty, but anyone who stood beside Orin was average, and that was the harsh reality.

“Um...no...” Orin laughed nervously.

“Well, what’ve you been doing? Order something! We came here to relax!” The girl bumped her shoulder before turning to Eli.

Orin looked at him with pleading eyes, a nervous smile on her lips. He remembered, she wasn’t really a drinker. This was out of her comfort zone.

“What can I get’ya, sistah?” He addressed the other Titan, charming and cocky attitude in place.

“You have any whiskey?” She smirked, shifting from side to side in a playful gesture.

“Malt, blended, rye, Irish, bourbon, classic Scotch or Japanese?” He flew through the list in one breath, cocking his brow in a challenging manner, while the girl burst into laughter.

“A man after my own heart!” She proclaimed, while Orin snorted beside her. A playful smile of her own forming.

“You know what...” The girl smacked the table, “Bring ‘em all out! We’ll just go down the line!”

She turned to call over her shoulder, “Get over here, guys! We’re whiskey sampling!”

Hoots and hollers answered, and several other Guardsman came to join them. Three men and one other woman. They gathered at the bar, talking uproariously while their Ghosts fluttered above them. That’s when Eli noticed, Orin’s Ghost wasn’t present, and he remembered how hers had been a bit...neurotic; it had been a source of amusement. Perhaps it couldn’t stand large and rowdy crowds. Whatever the case, he felt more comradery towards her. Like him, she didn’t need her Ghost breathing down her neck 24/7.

He greeted the others, playing the role of the entertainer, as he quickly produced over a dozen glasses from the shelf beneath the counter. Sliding them all out in a neat row with just a flick of his wrist.The other’s laughed and carried on, but Orin sat wide eyed as she watched him work. It seemed she sat in her own world, watching the deftness of Eli’s hands as he produced several bottles of liquor, each a different variation of whiskey, and poured out multiple shots in a flawless cascade.

He didn’t even rotate the bottles out! Just poured them all in a succession that was bewildering, and when he was bold enough to flick his fingers and light their drinks with that fire of his—the Titans practically hit the floor. Gasping and awing over it, they begged him to do it again, and every time they finished a shot, the pleading for more of his tricks continued.

It was bold of him. To use his light in front of them, but honestly, he could sense they still hadn’t suspected anything. Thinking perhaps it was just a parlor trick; a slight-of-hand.

Orin was the only one who didn’t speak or drink. Instead, she watched Eli, and though he moved through the motions of pouring, serving and clearing with a masterful skill, he couldn’t help but feel nervous and self-conscious under her gaze. There was clear admiration and amusement in those cat-like eyes, and as immature as it was to admit, he was proud to have her attention. To have her look at him that way.

_Pfft! What am I fifteen year old boy?!_

He didn’t want to lose it.

But, she eventually _did_ look away and joined in with her friend’s conversations. Laughing and talking, but still not drinking. Eli watched her for a moment, and mentally kicked himself to snap out of it, to stop pining for her attention. He had work to do anyways and he returned to walking the floor and serving other customers, while the Guard continued to carry on their own private affair at the bar.

Hours passed. He poured them more rounds, they praised his tricks and skills, and slowly, the place began to empty. Outside the sun had set and a light snow began to fall, which was the sign for the locals to head home; leaving only the Guard behind.

After another hour, each of them laid glimmer and silver upon the counter from their pockets and turned to the exit, Orin with them, smiling and laughing along the way, and Eli watched them go without a word.

Orin didn’t look back. Didn’t say goodbye.

And just like that—she was gone.

_Again...what did I expect?_

He hated himself for feeling this way. For being so...disappointed and hurt.

He stood alone in a silent room, complete fatigue enveloping him and a sinking in his heart. The wind was picking up outside again, and he moved to the unbroken windows to close and bolt the metal shudders. Come morning, he would finish more repairs, take note of his funds, and find someone to take proprietorship of the place. He was done with Felwinter’s Peak. Done with the Iron Lords, and most especially—done with other Risen. He’d find a place where they had no presence. No jurisdiction. Somewhere where the Pilgrim Guard wouldn’t even travel.

But he froze—

That would mean...he’d risk never crossing paths with _her_...

He stopped his own thoughts abruptly, wanting to kick his own ass. Who the fuck cares?!

He whipped about with a little more aggression than necessary and made his way back to the bar, scooping the money off the counter and quickly counting it. Luckily, he had turned a pretty good profit that evening, just like his Ghost had suggested.

_Good. I’ll get outta here faster._

He popped open his cash drawer, depositing his earnings before pulling the metal tray out to take back to his room.

It was a short walk through a small hallway, and when he opened the door, he found his Ghost still napping upon his pillow. Anger rising in him, he wanted to kick the little bastard-- sleeping all this time, while he had worked his ass off in the bar, running on absolutely no sleep!

He didn’t do it. He just stood in the doorway, reminding himself that he was the one who had told the thing to stay out of sight all the time. The Ghost was just doing what it was told, and in order to stave off boredom, it might as well just sleep. Or recharge...or whatever it is they do.

A sudden lurch in his stomach, and a shakiness began to fall upon him. Pain and disorientation slamming into him like a wave on a cliffside.

_Goddammit, I’m starving!_

Quickly, he crossed the room, and removed a metal attache case he kept hidden beneath a trick floorboard, dumping his earnings into it before sealing the floor back up.

_Move...move...move!_

He had to rush, for if he didn’t, he risked collapsing from the sudden onset of hunger. It never failed—every single damn time!

As he stood, he paused for a moment as his eyes caught sight of the cargo pants he had worn the night before. Dumped on the floor and splattered with blood, his mind raced—remembering something important...

_The key card!_

It was still inside one of the pockets. He swore under his breath, grateful he hadn’t burned them yet as he had planned. True, he could’ve bypassed the security and gotten into the container himself, but why do it the hard way? Too messy.

Stumbling forward, he scooped up the pants and grabbed the card, placing it in the pocket of his coat. He needed to retrieve the stuff tonight. He had to take count of his inventory, organize his resources, because...because....

A calmness in his mind, and apathy fell upon him.

He was going back to the original plan. Yes, that was the only way. Get a ship, and get off this rock—but he needed money to do it.

He wasn’t in a position to be robbing Warlords or ripping off any of the Daddy-Warbucks in the valleys. No...he had to be smart about this.

_It’s time to go._  
  
He had given it a chance. Then another, and another. Enough was enough.  
  
 _No more goddamn chances!_

A stabbing hunger pain struck him, and he gasped, nearly doubling over. He needed to eat— He needed to eat right now! Panting for breath as the room began to tilt, he panicked for a brief second and fell onto his knees—crawling on all fours as he made his way to his workbench, reaching for the ruck-sack that he stored beneath it. Hands shaking violently as he struggled to unsnap the straps and dig out several meal bars.

_Come on! Come the fuck on!_

His dexterous hands now so clumsy, as he tore into the wrappers, practically inhaling them, as he struggled to breath as he chewed and swallowed.

_Calm down! Dammit!_

He had food. He wasn’t going to die. He had food and he would be fine.  
  
A mantra as he allowed himself to plop onto the floor, trying to chew slower while breathing through his nose to calm himself. The trauma was always coming back, and he hated it! He hated living this way! But what could he do?

The shaking began to subside as he continued eating, and he allowed himself to relax, thinking about what he needed to do and how he was going to smoothly transition back into drifting. He crunched numbers in his head as he chewed, thinking about turnovers and overhead, thinking about materials needed for kit-bashing, the specs of what he needed and how much it would put him out...

And then he thought about Orin.

His heart skipped.

_Orin..._

Never had he thought he’d see her again— _NEVER_. But their paths had crossed once more, if only for a moment in time.

He took another bite and closed his eyes, but all he could see was Orin.

She was so beautiful, it was ethereal. She looked like a goddess walking among mortals. Even the other Risen could not glow in the light the way she did. But it wasn’t just that. No—she was kind and intelligent. She had wit and a great sense of humor. She was well-spoken and had class. There was great power and strength in her countenance, but underneath it all, there was a gentleness and compassion that couldn’t be matched.

She was everything he wasn’t, and he was disappointed at allowing himself to be so affected by her.

_Just forget her. She’s gone now._

He felt an ache in his chest at his own silent resolution. He had truly hoped—truly thought that maybe, just maybe, he had found his best friend in this ugly world.

But it wasn’t her.

So, there was no point in staying on Earth.

_But what a beautiful memory she will be._

Yes. His brief time with her was another memory he could cherish. He had so many bad ones, it was at least something he could add to the short list of good ones.

Oh well. Back to reality.

He glanced over to his Ghost, still powered down in sleep.

“Hey! Dumbass!” He threw a still wrapped meal bar at him, striking the little shell on the top of the head.

The Ghost startled awake, _Squeaking!_ and shaking his shell back and forth as he shot up into the air, rounding on his Chosen.

“The hell?! What?!” He narrowed his blue eye at Eli, not happy with being yanked out of slumber in such a fashion.

“We’re goin’ to the storage container, let’s go.”

A tilt of his shell indicated confusion, “You don’t want to wait until the morning? Sleep first?”

“No,” Eli tossed the used wrappers into a waste basket, dusting his hands as he slowly rose to his feet, allowing himself a moment to reorientate now that his blood sugar was rising.

“We need to get this shit tonight. Come on.”

The Ghost watched him for a moment longer, but said nothing more as he dissolved from view, going to that... _whatever_ place Ghosts go when they travel with their Chosen. Then, without fanfare, Eli left the room; locking the door behind him. He stepped past the bar, still lined with glasses he had yet to clear, but honestly, tidying up could wait. The focus was to gather his resources, regardless of time or weather.

Approaching the front door, he reached for the security panel, preparing to shut and bolt it for the night, when suddenly—

The door swung open, bringing him nose to nose with Orin.

Eli nearly had a heart attack, standing there before the door, paralyzed and wide-eyed. She clearly wasn’t expecting him to be there either, and she gasped and jumped. They stood mere inches apart, staring at each other with eyes wide in their heads— but she was the first to snap back. Her shock morphing into amusement before she burst into laughter.

“Oh! I’m so sorry! Sorry!” She spoke around her giggles, touching her fingers to her face in a bashful gesture, “I didn’t know you were standing there! Are you locking up?”

He didn’t answer immediately, he was still in shock himself. She was back. She came back?!

_Why?! Why would she come back?!_

He blinked out of his stupor, “Uh, yeah. I’m closed for the night.”

Her expression faltered a bit, a little gleam of disappointment in her eye, and her skin swirled with that wispiness—that strange light that moved across her cheeks. It was almost hypnotic, and he couldn’t help but stare.

“Oh, I’m sorry.” She fumbled with something in the pocket of her storm jacket, and held it up for him to see.

A deck of cards.

He cocked an eyebrow.

“I just thought you might...want to play? Pick up where we left off?” She offered a shy smile, a pleading look in her eye.

_She...wanted to play cards?_

“You came back for a card game?” He hadn’t meant to ask it out loud, but his lips mumbled the question. He was confused, and dazed. Orin had returned—and he was getting ready to leave.

She shuffled, a nervous gesture, “Well....we never finished that last game.”

He nearly blanched.

_Was she actually serious?! She was hung up on that?!_

He scoffed, “That was years ago.”

“I know!” She bounced slightly, “We need closure! As I remember, I was winning!”

He almost laughed, but his brain was still trying to get a grip on the situation. He needed to leave, but she had come back... and she wanted his company. So now—he didn’t know what to do.

He wanted her to stay. But—

“I actually have an errand to run.” He sighed, and almost cringed visibly when he saw her face fall, something disappointed forming in her countenance.

“Oh. This late at night?”

“Got no other time to do it, hun.”

A second passed. Then another, and he watched with a lump in his throat as she lowered her gaze and slipped the cards back into her pocket.

“Oh, that’s okay. It’s just....I hadn’t expected to run into you here.” Her lip twitched, and his heart hammered harder when he saw how clearly let down she was, “I was just...waiting for the others to leave so we could....you know, talk like we used to.”

Those eyes of hers, they shifted up to look at him through long lashes, and there was such...longing in them—

“I missed that.” She nearly whispered, and Eli could’ve died right there.

He just wanted to melt through the cracks in the floor!

_Is she serious?_

This couldn’t be real. It had to be a fever dream or something...

He was pulled back when he saw her shiver, and he realized she was still standing in the doorway with the night air seeping in. What a prick he was! Letting a lady stand in the cold like that!

“Here,” he stepped aside and opened the door wider for her, “Come in.”

She smiled softly and shuffled in, as he closed and locked the door behind her.

Silence fell between them once more. Eli desperately pondering what to do.

He had plans he needed to act on. He had to move, he had to keep going. He needed those supplies— but he didn’t want to part with Orin this way.

What were the odds of her returning to his life the way she had? He crunched the numbers in his head, looking at the statistics, but then mentally slapped himself to stop trying to boil everything down. Sometimes, math wasn’t going to give you the answer. It would give you the formula, but it wouldn’t _truly_ give you the answer.

He had to think quickly. He had to make a decision, but why was this so difficult? He had survived for so long by being decisive. That was the key to drifting, the ability to think quick on your feet, to make a choice and stick to it. But _she_ had upset the balance—but then again...was that really such a bad thing?

“I’m sorry. I don’t want to keep you—” She shuffled in a bashful manner, a mournful tone rising in her voice, and Eli made his decision—

“Ya wanna come with me?” He blurted it out, cutting her off.

There was a pause and she turned to meet his eye, and he could see a question churning inside her own.

“What?” Her voice was softer, confused.

He wasn’t an idiot. He understood the gravity of what he was asking. If she came with him, he would have to reveal his secret to her. That he was like her, that he was Risen. She would know the truth about him; something he never wanted anyone to know.

And yet....would it be so bad for Orin to know?

The answer to that question came quickly, his heart answering his brain.

_No._

He admitted to himself, that he _wanted_ her to know. He wanted her to know everything about him, and he wanted to know everything about her. Her honesty and candor had affected him deeply, in such a way that for the first time ever, he just wanted to be himself. Not “Eli the Moving-Man,” not “Wu Ming the Bartender,” not “Germaine the Farmer,” and certainly not The Drifter.

Whoever he was... he wanted this beautiful woman to know him.

“It’ll only take a minute.” His voice came out soft, and he was surprised at the sound of it, “I just need to pick somethin’ up. You could come with me and then—” He swallowed the lump forming in his throat, “We can come back and finish that card game.”

Her eyes brightened and a smile formed on her delicate lips. Her features were so ethereal. She was a Titan and yet, there was such a daintiness about her. Something so Un-Titan-Like. No, _she_ was a perfect little lady.

“Are you sure? You don’t mind if I come?” There was excitement in her voice, and it caused his heart to soar.

He smirked, “I wouldn’t have asked if I did.”

At that, her smile grew even more, and she chuckled.

“And hey—I’ll make you some hot chocolate. It’s cold enough outside.” He winked, his own smile threatening to break him.

Her eyes lit up and she almost bounced at his offer, “With honey?” her voice was filled with a childish innocence, and oh...how it set his flame burning a little brighter inside him.

_Anything she wants...I’ll give her anything!_

“With honey.” He confirmed.

Her smile was so bright. Everything about her was bright.

Then she whispered, “Alright, let’s go.”

It was the beginning of the end.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> IN LORE: After the fall of Eaton, The Drifter had met other Risen like himself who did not want any association with the Traveler or the Warlords. They lived as pirates, going around robbing the Warlords' stock houses for food, supplies and weapons. Lord Reince was a particular Warlord who was known to be insanely evil and cruel, and after a terrible event, The Drifter had ordered his crew to never go near the man.
> 
> After learning about the whereabouts of Lord Dryden, an Iron Lord how had gone corrupt and was responsible for using the people of Eaton as bait for his own selfish victories. The Drifter left his crew and went searching for the Warlock Felwinter to beg for his help in seeking revenge against Dryden. At the base of Felwinter's Peak, The Drifter opened a bar that everyone jokingly called "The End Of The World," in order to gather intel and prepare himself to climb the mountain to the Iron Lord's temple.
> 
> After climbing Felwinter's Peak, The Drifter revealed his secret of being a Risen only to the Warlock, and pleaded for the man to take pity on him and his request. Felwinter heard The Drifter's argument about how Dryden betrayed the code of the Iron Lords which resulted in the loss of Eaton, and believed The Drifter's heart was noble and true. So, he agreed to exact vengeance on The Drifter's behalf.
> 
> The Drifter was later reunited with his crew and had come to learn that in his absence, they had done what he had warned them not to do-- they started working for Lord Reince. Human trafficking, etc. The Drifter was so furious and disgusted he decided to kill them all and stop their campaign of violence against the innocent. He slaughtered them.
> 
> He was later reunited with Orin, and revealed his secret to her of being a Risen. Orin then convinced him to leave Felwinter's Peak and join the Pilgrim Guard with her. The rest is history.
> 
> The Iron Lords knew him under the name "Wu Ming" which translates to: "Nobody".


End file.
